So the other day we ate dinner in about six shifts to accommodate the comings and goings of the populous.
I sat down to accompany a lone eater before she shuffled off to ballet class, and she immediately bowed her head and announced
"I'll say it!"
What? (I wondered)
I'll admit that a blessing on the food was not on my mind.
(My kids keep me grounded daily, with their examples, humor, perspective and inspiration.)
Then she giggled and said
"Remember how yesterday I offered to say the prayer?"
I actually didn't, but as I reached deep into the recesses of my failing short term memory, I did faintly recall that she had wanted to say the dinner prayer on Sunday, and then offered to say the prayer at the conclusion of our discussion with the missionaries, who joined us for dinner. On top of that, it was her turn to say the prayer at our Family Home Evening, which we held on Sunday, to more easily maneuver the calendar on Monday night.
All this praying!
(What, am I raising a nun?!?)
Then she laughed some more and as she ate, informed me that she ALWAYS volunteers to say the prayer in her primary class on Sundays.
Now the REST of the story.
A certain Aunt Becky has taught my girls the doctrine of the-more-you-pray-the-cuter-your-future-husband-will-be and they have taken this very seriously.
At church the Aunt-Becky-prayer-doctrine has become familiar to the Primary teacher.
The discussion in my little Polly Prayer's class this past Sunday was on prophets.
As her teacher was kindly trying to instill some vision into the kids in her class she said that perhaps one day, one of the boys in that very class might even be a prophet!
To which my pretty prayer enthusiast said
"And someday I might even be married to a prophet!"
At which point her teacher laughed and said
"Yes, you might, and if you do, he'll be a very CUTE prophet."