I never prayed much, but I felt the need to now. I didn't exactly know why, but something in my head was convincing me that it would make me feel better. Would it?

I paced around my room, contemplating my choices. If I had never prayed much, would God suddenly answer me now, even if I had never prayed to Him before?

I started to pray, but had a sudden realization that I did not know how. How should I sit? Should I kneel? Was there some way of addressing God that only religious people knew about? I sat down on my bed and folded my hands together.

Hesitantly, I started. I told Him about what was going on (did He already know?), about how I was feeling, how I was worried about Mom. I didn't feel like He was answering, or even listening, so when I was finished I just went downstairs to make lunch.

I didn't start to feel better until I went upstairs after eating. I felt peaceful. As if, just for a moment, everything might turn out normal, even if it wasn't perfect. I had the sudden urge to draw again. Maybe I would try and draw an abstract scene that described how I was feeling. I'd always wanted to try.

Then I remembered the river.

The End

36 comments about this story Feed