Oh, you know how everything in life has a first time? First teacher, first crush, first date, first kiss. But Emily will never forget her first prayerthat holy feeling of love for her grandma Edith and her first words to God.
Emilys retired now, lives alone in her little cottage in the countryside. Her daughters been married for years, settled down in Manchester with her own family. Emilys spent her whole life in that villagemarried there, buried her husband there eight years back. Now she sometimes pops into the church to light a candle and say a prayer for her loved ones.
On her way to church today, she suddenly remembered her childhood and that very first prayer. She never knew her parentsthey died in a motorbike accident coming back from town when she was just three. Grandma Edith raised her after that.
One autumn, when the leaves had turned golden and the rain drizzled down, Emily fell ill.
“You mustve caught a chill,” Grandma Edith fussed. “I keep telling you to wear a hat! Your head got wet, the wind blew through you, and there you have it. Autumn, eh?”
She didnt take Emily to the hospitaltreated her the old-fashioned way instead. That first night, Emily even ran a fever, drifting in and out of strange, fleeting dreams. She was only eight.
In the morning, Grandma checked her temperature and sighed in relief. “Thank the Lord, its come down. Whats the matter, love? What do you fancy?”
“Tea,” Emily croaked, licking her dry lips before closing her eyes again.
“Right you are, my dear. Ill mash up some elderberry, add honeybest thing for sickness. Sweeps the illness right out.”
Emily knew the routine. Grandma always did this when she fell ill in winter. After drinking the tea, shed scoop up the bittersweet mush at the bottom of the mug. She loved it. When Grandma had time, shed sit by the bed, knitting socks, humming old tunes or telling stories from her youth. And every night, without fail, shed praysometimes even in the daytime, begging God to make Emily well again.
One evening, watching Grandma kneel before the icons in the corner with the little oil lamp flickering, Emily felt a sudden rush of fear.
“What if Grandma dies? What if Im left all alone?” The thought had never struck her before, but now it terrified her.
She pictured Grandma lying in a coffinshed seen old Mrs. Clarke from next door buried just last month. Her grandson, Jack, was Emilys friend; they walked to school together. Grandma had taken her to pay respects: “Say goodbye to Mrs. Clarke,” shed said.
The idea of being alone hit Emily so hard she started crying. Just then, Grandma came over.
“Whats wrong, love? Why the tears?” she asked softly, stroking Emilys hair.
“Grandma you wont die, will you?”
Grandma paused. “Oh, love. One day, yes. Everyone doesthats the way of things.”
“But not soon?”
“Whenever God wills it. Why dyou ask?”
“I dunno Why do people die?”
“Well, how else would it be? We all go when its our time. Thats how the Lord wants it.”
“But why?”
“Thats not for us to know, pet,” Grandma said after a moment. “And we dont need to. Just live right by Gods laws, and thats that. When the time comes, youll go as youre meant to.”
“So God decides how long we live?”
“Course He does.”
“Can He make someone live a really long time?”
“He can do anything,” Grandma said, crossing herself before leaving the room.
An idea struck Emily.
*I wonder what Grandma prays for. Probably asks God to let her live a long time. Right. So I should pray for her too. Ill ask God to keep Grandma alive forever. I dont want to be alone. She says childrens prayers reach Him fastest. But how do I do it? No one can hearjust God.*
The next day, when Grandma went to church, Emily saw her chance. She waited till Grandma turned the corner toward the village chapel, then drew the curtains tight so no one could peek in.
On Grandmas shelf stood a few icons. Emily only recognized St. Nicholas and the Virgin MaryGrandma had told her about them. She stood before them, unsure who to ask. The house was dead silent. She settled on St. Nicholas.
*I dont know any prayers,* she realized. The saints faces stared back, making her fidget.
*Well, Ill just ask. Theyll understand up there. They know Im just a kid. But later, Ill get Grandma to teach me a proper prayer.*
She looked at St. Nicholas and whispered, “Please, make my Grandma Edith never die Wait, no. I mean, let her live a really, really long time. Her legs hurt, and her hearts badwhat if she goes soon? Shes old, and Im scared to be alone. Make her strong and healthy. I love her so much, so please help me. Let her live forever. Shes kind, and she prays all the timeshes at church right now!”
She rambled whatever came to mind, her chest tight with hope that St. Nicholas would listen. Then she curled up, waiting for Grandma to return.
When the door finally creaked open, Grandma handed her a bar of chocolate. “Howre you feeling, my love?”
“Fine, Grandma. Can you teach me how to pray to St. Nicholas?”
“Same as any saint. Why dyou ask?”
“Is there a special prayer?”
“Oh, plenty. Ill show you tonight.”
Grandma went to stoke the hearth, thoughtful. *Whats got into my Emily? Asking about prayers Well, its good, I suppose. Best teach her one.*
That night, as Grandma prayed, Emily watched and mumbled along. When Grandma sat on her bed, Emily asked, “So if I ask St. Nicholas for something, hell tell God?”
Grandma smiled, stroking her hair. “Something like that. He prays to God for usfor our health and happiness.”
Emily fell asleep straight away, resting well for the first time in days. Just before drifting off, she thought, *So I prayed right. Grandma will live a long, long time.*
She even dreamed of a tall, white-bearded old man in robes, holding a book and smiling kindly at her.
When she woke, she was perfectly welllighthearted and calm. *They heard me up there. Grandmas going to live forever.*
Grandma came in, smiling. “Howre you feeling?” She pressed a hand to Emilys forehead. “No fever, but lets check.” She handed over the thermometer.
“Grandma, Im fine! Really! Im not sick anymore.”
“Good. Saw Jack running to schoolasked after you. Said hed stop by after lessons. Time to catch up on homework. Its Fridayweekends nearly here, then back to school Monday.”
“Yeah, I cant wait!” Emily grinned, passing back the thermometernormal as ever.
Grandma Edith lived to eighty-eight. Emily grew up, married, had her own daughter by the time Grandma fell ill for good. Emily nursed her with all the love in the world, but the day camejust as Grandma had said it wouldand she slipped away quietly in the night.
Emily doesnt go to church much these days, but today shes lighting a candlefor her parents, and for Grandma Edith. Its her birthday. Emilys never forgotten the date, and shell never forget that love.
