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 spoken to God.
Emily was retired now, living alone. Her daughter had married long ago and lived with her own family in Manchester. Emily had spent her whole life in the villagemarried here, buried her husband eight years ago. Sometimes, she went to church to pray for her family and light candles.
As she prepared to go, she suddenly remembered her childhood and that first prayer. She couldnt recall her parentsthey had died in a motorbike accident on their way back from the city when she was three. Her grandmother Edith had raised her ever since.
One autumn, when the leaves had turned gold and a fine drizzle soaked the air, Emily fell ill.
“You mustve caught a chill,” her grandmother said. “I always tell you to wear a hat. Your head got wet, the wind blew through you, and there you have it. Autumn…”
Edith didnt take her to the hospitalshe treated her the way she knew best. That first night, Emily tossed with fever, slipping in and out of strange, fleeting dreams. She was eight years old.
In the morning, Edith checked her temperature.
“Thank the Lord, its gone down. Emily, my dear, whats the matter? What would you like?”
“Tea,” Emily murmured, licking her dry lips before closing her eyes again.
“Of course, my love. Ill mash some elderberry in a cup, add honeybest thing for sickness. Drives the illness right out.”
Emily knew this remedy well. Edith always made it when she fell ill in winter. After drinking the tea, she scooped up the bittersweet pulp left at the bottom. She loved it. When her grandmother wasnt busy, shed sit beside her, knitting socks, humming hymns, or telling stories. And every evening, without fail, Edith prayedsometimes even during the dayasking God to make Emily well again.
One night, as Emily watched her grandmother kneel before the icons in the corner, the little oil lamp flickering, a thought scorched through her like boiling water.
“What if my grandmother dies? What if Im left all alone?” The idea had never occurred to her before, but now it terrified her.
She imagined Edith lying in a coffin. She had seen old Mrs. Clark from next door buried earlier that autumn. She and her grandson Sam were friendsthey even walked to school together. Edith had taken her to pay their respects.
The fear of being alone made Emily cry. Just then, her grandmother came over.
“Whats wrong, my darling? Why are you crying?” She stroked Emilys hair.
“Gran, you wont die, will you?”
Edith hesitated. “Me? Well, my time will come someday. Everyone passesthats how life is.”
“Not soon?”
“Only God knows. Why do you ask?”
“I dont know… Why do people have to die?”
“Well, now… Thats just the way of things. We all go to the next world when the Lord wills it.”
“But why?”
“Thats not for us to know, my dear,” Edith said quietly. “And we dont need to. Just live by Gods commandments, and thats that. When the hour comes, youll go as youre meant to.”
“So God decides our lives?”
“Of course He does.”
“Can He make someone live a long time?”
“He can do anything,” Edith said, crossing herself before leaving the room.
A thought struck Emily.
“I wonder what Gran prays for. Does she ask God to let her live long? She must. So I should pray for her too. Ill ask God to let Gran live a long, long timeI dont want to be alone. She says childrens prayers reach heaven faster. But how do I do it so no one sees or hearsexcept God, of course?”
The next day, Edith left for church.
Emily had an idea. Shed pray while her grandmother was outmaybe at the shops or visiting a neighbor. The chance came sooner than expectedEdith was going to church.
“Emily, I wont be long. Will you be all right alone, or shall I ask Sam to come over?”
“No, Gran, Ill be fine. Samll come by later.”
“As you wish. I must go to church and pray.”
Emily watched from the window as her grandmother turned onto the path leading to the church. She drew the curtains tightno one must see her praying.
On the little shelf stood a few icons. She only recognized Saint Nicholas and the Virgin MaryEdith had told her about them. She stood before them, unsure whom to ask. The house was silent as stone. She settled on Saint Nicholas.
“I dont know any prayers,” she thought.
The saints faces gazed down, and she shifted uneasily.
“Here I am, ready to ask for Gran to live long, but how do I start? How do you talk to a saint?”
She stood there, staring, until an idea came.
“If I just ask for Gran, theyll hear me in heaven anyway. They know Im little and dont know prayers. But Ill ask Gran latershell teach me how to pray properly.”
She looked at Saint Nicholas and whispered,
“Please, make my Gran Edith never die… No, waitmake her live a long, long time. Her legs and heart hurtwhat if she goes soon? Shes old, and Im scared to be alone. Keep her healthy… I love her so much, so please help me. Let her live long. Shes kind and always prays to Youshes gone to church again now.”
She spoke whatever came to mind, her heart squeezing with hope that Saint Nicholas would listen. Then she lay down, waiting for her grandmothers return.
At last, the door creaked open. Edith came in, handing her a chocolate bar.
“How are you, my dear?”
“Im all right, Gran. Can I askhow do you pray to Saint Nicholas?”
“The same as to all saints… Why do you ask?”
“Is there a special prayer?”
“Oh yes, several,” Edith said, studying her. “Ill show you tonight.”
“All right, Gran.”
Edith left to tend the stove, thoughtful.
“Whats gotten into my Emily? Asking about prayers… Strange. But then again, its good. I must teach her at least one.”
That evening, as Edith prayed before bed, Emily watched and murmured along. When her grandmother sat by her bedside, she asked,
“Gran, if you ask Saint Nicholas for something, does he tell God?”
Edith smiled, stroking her hair.
“In a way, yes. He prays to God for us, so we stay well and healthy.”
Emily fell asleep at once, dreaming soundly. She was on the mend. Just before drifting off, she thought,
“So I prayed right for Gran to be healthy and live long. That means itll happen.”
She slept deeply until morning, dreaming of a tall, white-bearded old man with a cross on his chest and an open book in hand. He smiled at herkind and warm.
When she woke, she felt light, calm. She thought again,
“They heard me in heaven. Gran will live a long, long time.”
Edith came in, smiling.
“How are you, my love?” She touched Emilys forehead. “No fever, but lets check.” She handed her the thermometer.
“Gran, Im finereally. Im not ill anymore.”
“Good. I saw Sam rushing to schoolhe asked after you. Hell stop by after lessons. Time to catch up on schoolwork. Its Fridayweekends nearly here.”
“Yes, Gran. I want to go back.” Emily grinned, handing her the thermometernormal.
Edith lived to be eighty-eight. Emily had married, had a daughter of her own, by the time her grandmother fell ill for good. She cared for her with all the love in her heartuntil that day Edith had spoken of long ago came, and she left this world quietly in the night.
Emily didnt go to church often, but today she wouldto remember her parents and her beloved Gran. It was Ediths birthday. She would always remember the date, always carry that love with her.
