I have prayed all my life. I learned simple prayers as a very young child, with tiny hands folded, head bowed, down on my knees by my bed before I went to sleep: “Dear Jesus, Thank you for this day. Thank you for my mommy and daddy. I love you. Amen.” I remember the feel of the hardwood floor of my bedroom beneath my knees. I remember the white platform bed in front of me with the built-in drawers painted medium blue on either side of a special storage cupboard I could fit my entire self into, and did on many occasions.

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