When Mama prays . . .

When Mama prays, I hear her voice so lilting and so light.

When Mama prays, I lay me down and drift off into night.

When Mama prays, I clasp my hands and bow my little head.

When Mama prays, we bless the meals and bless us into bed.

When Mama prays and asks the Lord to fold me in his arms.

When Mama prays it comforts me and keeps me far from harms.

When Mama prays me off to school, I know my day is right.

When Mama prays, “God guide the steps,” I know His strength and might.

When Mama prays me out the door and on my merry way,

When Mama prays, He sees the strife and keeps the cares at bay.

Beth Miramonti