A Child's Prayer

You know, sometimes it is only in the frantic moments of our distress that we are able to see how truly faithful a child can be.

The bike we got for Sister ended up having some issues so I took it in to the store to return it and realized that the little backpack that was on the handlebars wasn't there... I had already been running all over that day and was frazzled to the core, so knowing that I had to, again, for the 4th time that day, make the same 15 minute drive home to find the backpack just wore me out even thinking about it.

When I get home I start searching for the backpack assuming that I would find it in the obvious places—on the counter, on the table, on her desk, on her bed, under her bed, on the floor under her clothes and toys, in my room, in Brother's room, in Baby's room, under the couches, under the chairs... but no.

I then recruit Marc to help me look for it under Brother's bed, in all the closets, the pantry, under the sinks, in the fridge, in all the dresser drawers throughout the entire house, in the bathtubs, in the storage room, in the garage, in the fridge in the garage, in the medicine cabinet, on top of the fridge... no.

Then we recruit Brother and Sister (I mean Sister should know where her bike pack is, right?) to come and find this lost treasure so that I can return the bike and get one that wasn't faulty. I had spent a fair amount of money that we didn't really have and I was getting stressed out that I was going to be stuck with a faulty bike.

Marc and I were getting a little more intense (you know how that goes) and nerves were getting short.

I was giving our room one last sweep and a little flustered I was briskly walking down the hall when I saw Brother sitting on the chair in the front room, eyes closed, arms folded, lips moving as he asked Heavenly Father for help.

It really touched my heart.

I hadn't once stopped to pray for help. It seemed too trivial a thing for prayer.

It was humbling to see the faith he had.

Well, I knew after that we just HAD to find the backpack. I didn't want his faith to wane.

I told Brother that I knew we would find it now. He smiled and sat in his chair watching Marc and I search the house over once again.

But, this time I felt prompted to check Sister's desk again. I had already checked it. But, I guess I'll check it again. This time I opened the little drawer in the front, the one I thought was too little for this little pack to fit in.

There it was!

In the desk drawer!

When I came out to show Brother that I had found it his face beamed.

Oh I loved it.

It just made me think, especially at this time when we are remembering the tragic day of 9/11 and all whom it affected, that if we could just have the faith of a child what a wonderful gift that would be.

I am sure that on that awful day when children were scared, had lost parents, friends or loved ones that God was there to comfort them. I am sure there were many prayers that day. To see the resilience and happiness in all the kids that  they have been showing all over the news... it is truly inspiring.

I love to hear the stories of the children talking about their heroic parents and how they take strides forward instead of letting it bring them down.

Amazing.

Children are amazing.

They are so strong.

They have a voice that deserves to be heard, by us and by God.

What a beautiful country we live in that we can worship as we want. An amazing freedom that in itself many have died for.

So many noble causes.

So many heroes in so many ways.

And yet, we forget that the same God who gave men and women the strength and will to fight for their rights and their country is also the same God who answers a child's prayer about something as small as a backpack.

While remembering the many tragedies of 9/11 let us not forget the many, many miracles—a united nation, service to our fellow man, love for our neighbor and the lives that were saved because of the sacrifices of many very brave men and women.