For you families out there who are religious, you will be able to understand the nightly scene at the Chatfield house when we were growing up.
Every person in the family slowly congregated in the living room before bedtime; as the stragglers were rushing to finish their phone call/homework/tv show, the remainder of the group got kind of raucous—tickling, jokes, and wrestling abounded. And we were a family of five girls!
We were getting ready to say family prayers together. You know, as you do.
My father assigned one of us to say the prayer each night, and one particular night, it was Kellie's turn.
At the time, she was in the first grade at the oldest; I can't quite remember the particulars, seeing as ages three to six blend together in a melting pot of cuteness for curly-headed Kellie. Don't believe me? Ask for pictures. To.Die.For.
Kellie began her prayer, thanking Heavenly Father for the usual stuff: the beautiful day, the family, the good food we had to eat. The sincerity of the prayer was heart-warming.
Her prayer continued, as she listed other things for which she was grateful. She had a big group of tiny friends at the time, so of course she couldn't forget to talk about them.
She said, "Heavenly Father, I'm grateful that my friends worship me."
And she closed that prayer right up.
She had to, because the rest of us were splitting ourselves open from the inside—holding in a gut-busting laugh is not an easy task! We all knew that Kellie meant she was grateful for her friends, but it's been over 10 years and we still tease her about being her friends' idol.
When God said that thou shalt not bow down to any graven image, do you think he meant every one? I mean, look at this face.
The Week of W(h)it is a collection of funny stories about my friend
Whitney Hardie and the people she knows. Whitney's mother recently died
and this project is a way to help her grieve through humor.
No comments:
Post a Comment