Just got word today that my oldest brother, Joe, was admitted to Mercy Hospital in Buffalo, N.Y, in critical condition, apparently a relapse after a gall bladder operation. I was trying to absorb this troubling news when in pops Danny. Seeing my face, Danny said "What's the matter Grandpa Hank. Are you sick?" "No," I answered. "I just found out my brother is very sick." "I'm sorry," the little guy answered. "Is he gonna die?" "I hope not Danny but, tell me something, do you ever pray?" "Yes, sometimes," he answered shyly. "Would you do me a favor and say a prayer for my brother?" "You mean NOW?" he asked.. "If you want to," I said, not really expecting such immediate action.
Without another word, Danny walked outside to my front patio. He was praying aloud as he lifted his eyes to the heavens. "God, Grandpa Hank's brother is real sick. Can you help make him better, God?" Then he added, "I'd sure appreciate it." When Danny came back inside, he said to me with a smile. "Grandpa Hank, when I was praying out there, there were some construction guys right outside the house. They looked at me like I was crazy talking out loud like that. I didn't care. I was talking to God."
There was a lump in my throat as I thanked Danny. "You know something," I confided to him, "I'm really grateful that you said a prayer for Joe. You know why? Because God pays special attention to the prayers of children."
I was being truthful. I really believe that there is something about the innocence of children that makes even the Master of the Universe drop everything and pay attention. Don't you think?