Everything in life must happen for the first time somedaythe first teacher, the first love, the first date, the first kiss. But Barbara would always remember her first prayer. That feeling stayed with her all her life, a sacred love for her grandmother Edith and her first words spoken to God.
Barbara was retired now, living alone. Her daughter had long since married and settled with her own family in the county town. Barbara had spent her whole life in the villagemarried there, buried her husband there eight years ago. Now she sometimes went to church to pray for her loved ones and light candles.
As she prepared for church, Barbara suddenly remembered her childhood and that first prayer. She had no memory of her parentsthey had died when she was three, their motorcycle crashing on the way back from town. Her grandmother Edith had raised her ever since.
One autumn, when the leaves had turned gold and a fine drizzle filled the air, Barbara fell ill.
«Mustve caught a chill,» Edith had said. «I keep telling you, wear your hat. Your head got wet, the wind blewthere you are. Autumn…»
She didnt take Barbara to the hospital, treating her the old way instead. That first night, Barbara had even drifted into feverish dreamsshort, fleeting thingswaking and slipping back into confusion. She was eight years old.
In the morning, Edith checked her temperature.
«Thank the Lord, its gone down. Barbara, love, whats the matter? What would you like?»
«Tea,» Barbara whispered, licking her dry lips before closing her eyes again.
«Of course, my dear. Ill mash some elderberries for you, add honeybest thing when youre poorly. Takes the sickness right out.»
Barbara knew this remedy well. Whenever she fell ill in winter, this was how Edith nursed her. She drank the tea, then scraped the bitter-sweet pulp from the bottom of the mug. She always liked it. When Edith had time, she sat beside her, knitting socks, humming hymns, or telling stories. And every evening, without fail, she prayedsometimes before bed, sometimes in the day, asking God to heal Barbara quickly.
One evening, watching her grandmother kneel before the icons in the corner, the small oil lamp flickering, Barbara felt a sudden, scalding fear.
«What if Grandmother dies? Id be all alone.» The thought had never crossed her mind before. Now it terrified her.
She imagined Edith lying in a coffinshed seen Old Mrs. Clark from next door buried just that autumn. Barbara had played with her grandson, Sammy, walking to school together. Shed gone with Edith to pay respects. «Say goodbye to Clara,» Edith had said.
Now, the idea of being alone made Barbara cry. Edith noticed and came to her.
«Whats wrong, love? Why the tears?» She stroked Barbaras hair.
«Grandma you wont die, will you?»
Edith hesitated. «Me? Well, when the time comes, yes. Everyone does, thats the way of things.»
«But not soon?»
«Thats for the Lord to decide. Whats brought this on?»
«I dont know Why do people have to die?»
«Well now How else would it be? We all go when He calls us.»
«But why?»
«Thats not for us to know, child.» Edith paused. «And we neednt know. Live rightly by Gods commandments, and thats all. When the hour comes, youll go as you must.»
«So God decides our lives?» Barbara marvelled.
«Of course He does.»
«Can He make someone live a long time?»
«He can. He can do anything.» Edith crossed herself and left the room.
An idea struck Barbara.
«What does Grandmother pray for? Does she ask God for a long life? She must. Then I should ask too. Ill beg God to let her live forever. I dont want to be alone. She says childrens prayers reach Heaven fastest. But how do I do it so no one sees or hearsexcept God?»
The next day, Edith went to church.
Barbara waited until she was gone, peeking through the curtains as Edith turned down the lane toward the village chapel. She drew the curtains tightno one must see her pray.
On the little shelf stood Ediths icons. Barbara only recognized two: St. Nicholas and the Virgin Mary. She stood before them, uncertain. The house was silent. She chose St. Nicholas.
«I dont know any prayers,» she realized.
The saints painted eyes watched her, making her uneasy.
«I want to ask for Grandmother to live long, but how? How do you talk to a saint?»
She stared at the icons, then it came to her.
«If I just ask, Heaven will hear. They know Im little. Theyll understand. But Ill ask Grandmother latershell teach me the right way.»
She looked at St. Nicholas and whispered:
«Please, make my Grandmother Edith never die No, waitlet her live a long, long time. Her legs hurt, and her heartwhat if she goes soon? Shes old, and Im scared to be alone. Make her strong. I love her so muchhelp me. Let her live. Shes good, she prays all the time. Shes at church now.»
The words tumbled out. Her chest ached with how much she wanted St. Nicholas to listen. After, she lay down, waiting for Edith.
When the door creaked open, Edith handed her a chocolate bar.
«How are you, my dear?»
«Fine, Grandma. Can you tell mehow do you pray to St. Nicholas?»
«Same as any saint. Why do you ask?»
«Is there a special prayer?»
«Oh yes, several. Ill teach you one tonight.»
«Alright.»
Edith went to stoke the kitchen stove, thoughtful.
«Whats got into my Barbara? Asking after prayers Well, its no bad thing. Ill teach her one, for certain.»
That night, as Edith prayed, Barbara watched, mouthing some words. When Edith sat on her bed, Barbara asked:
«Grandma, if I ask St. Nicholas for something, does he tell God?»
Edith smiled, stroking her hair. «In a manner of speaking. He prays for us. Asks God to keep us well.»
Barbara fell asleep at once, dreaming of a tall, white-bearded man in robes, a cross on his chest, an open book in his hand. He smiled at her, warm and kind.
She woke healthy, her heart light. «They heard me,» she thought. «Grandmother will live long.»
Edith came in, smiling. «How are you feeling?» She pressed a hand to Barbaras forehead. «No fever, but lets check.» She handed over the thermometer.
«Im fine, Grandma. Really. Im not ill anymore.»
«Good. Sammy ran past to schoolasked after you. Said hed visit after lessons. Time you caught up on your work. Its Fridayyoull be back Monday.»
Barbara grinned. «I want to go now.» She passed back the thermometernormal.
Edith lived to eighty-eight. Barbara married, had her daughter, and when Edith finally took to her bed, Barbara cared for her with all the love she had. But the day came, just as Edith had said it would, and she slipped away quietly in the night.
Barbara didnt often go to church. But today, she wouldto remember her parents and beloved Edith, for it was her grandmothers birthday. She had never forgotten the date. And she would carry that love all her life.
