Sandra’s Prayer

Sammy looked so small and so sick as he lay in his crib. Mother gently rubbed his back, but he still continued to moan. Sandra watched awhile and then went to her room. She squeezed her eyes shut and clasped her hands as tightly as she could. After all, maybe God would do what she wanted if she prayed hard enough. “Oh Lord, our Father,” she began, “please make Sammy better” But slowly the words dropped from her lips, and her eyes and hands forgot to be tight. Father, she thought again and...