Prayer of Love

He softly crept into the quiet bedroom of his father, and found that during the night, he had been carried away in the arms of angels. He sat down beside him, and cried uncontrollably. He looked upon his father's face and traced each line, with the pencil of his eyes. He looked down at his hands, the large hands which had so often held him close, held him tight. As he gazed upon his fingers, he saw a crumpled piece of paper, held firmly in his grasp. He removed the paper from his father's hand. Thereupon, was written a prayer, in his mother's handwriting. It was a prayer, she had written, intended for his reading, at times when he felt alone. He turned it over, and saw where his father had recorded the dates that he had received strength from her words. The first, he recognized easily, the date of his own birth. He smiled. The second, was recorded in 1943, by a somewhat shaky hand, from some distant shore during World War II. The third, was the date of his sister's birth. The fourth, was the time that his mother had undergone heart surgery, and then another, at the time of her death. The list continued on, until the final time that his eyes had rested upon her comforting words, sometime during the night, and no entry had been made. He took the prayer from his father's hand, folded it, and placed it into his wallet, a forever keepsake of a Prayer of Love.

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