Everything in life happens for the first time at some point. The first teacher, the first love, the first date, the first kiss. But Emily would always remember her first prayer. That feeling stayed with her all her lifea sacred love for her grandmother Edith and her first words to God.
Emily, now retired, lived alone. Her daughter had long since married and settled in the county town with her own family. Emily had spent her whole life in the villagemarried there, buried her husband eight years ago, and now sometimes visited the church to pray for her loved ones and light candles.
As she prepared to go to church, Emily suddenly remembered her childhood and that first prayer. She had no memory of her parentsthey had died in a motorcycle accident when she was just three. Her grandmother Edith had raised her ever since.
One autumn, when the leaves had turned gold and a drizzle hung in the air, Emily fell ill.
“You must have caught a chill,” Edith said. “I keep telling you to wear a hat. Your head got wet, the wind blew, and there you have it. Autumn…”
She didnt take Emily to the hospital but treated her as she knew best. The first night, Emily had a fever so high she drifted in and out of restless dreams. She was eight years old.
In the morning, Edith checked her temperature and sighed with relief. “Thank the Lord, its gone down. Emily, love, what do you fancy?”
“Tea,” Emily murmured, licking her dry lips before closing her eyes again.
“Of course, my dear. Ill mash some elderberries in a cup for you, add honeybest thing for an illness. Sweeps the sickness right out.”
Emily knew this remedy well. Whenever she was poorly in winter, this was Ediths cure. After drinking the tea, she scraped up the bittersweet pulp at the bottom of the cup. She loved it. When Edith wasnt busy, she sat by Emilys bed, knitting socks, humming old songs, or telling stories from her youth. And every evening, without fail, she prayedsometimes even in daylightasking God to make Emily well again.
One evening, as Emily watched her grandmother kneel before the small icons in the corner, the lamplight flickering, a sudden fear seized her.
“What if Grandmother dies? What if Im left all alone?” The thought had never crossed her mind before, but now it terrified her.
She imagined Edith lying in a coffin, just like old Mrs. Clarke from next door had last autumn. Shed gone with her grandmother to pay respects, holding hands with the neighbours grandson, Billy, whom she walked to school with every day.
The fear of being alone overwhelmed her, and she began to cry. Edith, sensing her distress, came close and stroked her hair.
“Whats the matter, love? Why the tears?”
“Grandma will you die?”
Edith hesitated before answering. “One day, yes. Everyone does, my dear. Thats the way of things.”
“But not soon?”
“Only the Lord knows. Why do you ask?”
“I dont know Why do people have to die?”
“Well now Thats not for us to question. We live by Gods will, and when our time comes, we go as we must.”
“So God decides how long we live?”
“He does.”
“Could He make someone live a very long time?”
“He could. He can do anything.” Edith crossed herself and left the room.
Emilys mind raced. *What does Grandma pray for? Probably to live a long life. Exactly. So I should pray for her too. Ill ask God to let her live foreverI dont want to be alone. She says childrens prayers are heard faster. But how do I do it so no one sees or hears? Only God should know.*
The next day, Edith went to church.
Emily had her plan. Shed pray when her grandmother was outperhaps at the market or visiting a neighbour. The chance came soon enough.
“Emily, I shant be long. Should I ask Billy to keep you company?”
“No, Grandma, Ill be fine. Hell come by later anyway.”
“As you wish. I must go to churchtheres praying to be done.”
Emily watched from the window as Edith turned onto the lane leading to the church. She drew the curtains tight, ensuring no one would see her pray.
On the small shelf stood a few icons. She recognised Saint Nicholas and the Virgin Mary from Ediths stories. She stood before them, unsure whom to address. The house was silent. Finally, she chose Saint Nicholas.
*But I dont know any prayers.*
The saints painted eyes seemed to watch her, making her uneasy.
*I want to ask for Grandma to live a long time, but how? How do you even start?*
Then it struck her. *If I just ask, wont they hear me anyway? They know Im just a child. But Ill ask Grandma latershell teach me properly.*
She looked at Saint Nicholas and whispered,
“Please, make sure my grandma Edith never dies No, wait. I mean, let her live a very, very long time. Her legs hurt, and her heart What if she goes soon? Shes old, and Im so scared of being alone. Give her strength. I love her so muchplease help me. Shes kind and always prays to You. Shes at church now.”
The words tumbled out. Her chest ached with longing for Saint Nicholas to listen. Then she lay down to wait.
When Edith returned, she brought a bar of chocolate.
“How are you, my dear?”
“Grandma how do you pray to Saint Nicholas?”
“The same as to any saint. Why do you ask?”
“Is there a special prayer?”
“There are several. Ill teach you one tonight.”
Edith went to stoke the fire, thoughtful. *Whats come over my Emily? Prayers, of all things But perhaps its for the best. She ought to know at least one.*
That evening, as Edith prayed, Emily watched and repeated some words. When Edith sat by her bed, Emily asked,
“Grandma, if I ask Saint Nicholas for something, does he tell God?”
Edith smiled and stroked her hair. “In a manner of speaking. He intercedes for usasks God to keep us well.”
Emily fell asleep quickly that night, her fever gone. Before drifting off, she thought, *So I did right. I asked for Grandma to be healthy and live long. It will be so.*
She dreamed of a tall, silver-haired old man with a long white beard, a cross on his chest, and an open book in his hand. He smiled at her, warm and kind.
She woke the next morning, perfectly well, her heart light. *They heard me. Grandma will live a long, long time.*
Edith came in, smiling. “How do you feel?” She pressed a hand to Emilys forehead. “No fever, but lets check to be sure.”
“Grandma, Im finereally! Im not ill anymore.”
“Good. Billy asked after you on his way to school. Said hed stop by after lessons. Youd best catch up on your schoolwork tooits Friday, and youll be back on Monday.”
Edith lived to be eighty-eight. Emily had married, had a daughter of her own, and cared for her grandmother with love when illness finally took her. And though Emily didnt often go to church, she went that dayto remember her parents and Edith, whose birthday it was.
She never forgot that date. And she never stopped loving her.
