Prayers of a Child and an Adult

I do not remember being taught the words, perhaps my mother and father instructed me in the phrases to say and perhaps I learned it from listening to my brother give voice to the evening ritual, but however I learned the words, they certainly were internalized at a very early age.

Shema Israel Adonai Eloheynu Adonai Echad Here O'Israel, The Lord is our God, The Lord is one, Bless Mommy and Daddy, Mark and Marsha, Bobi and Papa, Papa Fellman, all of my aunts and uncles and cousins, Anna, Scissors and all of our cats, Keep them all well. Amen.

I do not remember the feelings that those words brought to me, but I assume that they were comforting and allowed me to believe that I had some sort of influence in the world and that there was something greater than me that watched over everyone who I cared about.

I do not remember when the child's bedtime prayer faded from the nightly ritual. I wonder if even after I stopped saying the words aloud I would whisper them to myself - a big boy who was not so big on the inside as he was on the outside.

Like so many other rituals of life, the evening prayer, even the eternal one, eventually faded away without reason, without thought, without a feeling of loss.

But like music that is buried deep within us in a manner that allows us to remember the words and tunes from 30 and more years ago, even as we cannot remember the book we read last year (or even last week), the words of the little boy's evening prayer remain within me.

And so, I find that recently, the child's prayer has reappeared in a new form based on current beliefs, but perhaps serving at least part of the same purpose. The oneness of the child's god has been replaced by a belief in the oneness of all that has been, all that is and all that will be. And so, the adult's evening prayer is one without words, but is simply the nightly attempt to envision the moment of the big bang when out of seeming nothingness (can there be such a thing), to find in the total blackness the sudden burst of a single point of light, rapidly growing until all that there is is light. But, try as I might, I cannot create that vision, neither the blackness of nothing, nor the single point of light. Yet, perhaps it is not the creation of the vision as much as the attempt to create the vision that is important, for it serves as a reminder that we all come from that moment in time.

And, now, in recent days, I have added a morning ritual to remind myself of the glorious opportunity of the day that awaits me. It is not a standard liturgy, but it does create an awareness, The ritual . . . singing Zippity Do Da followed by Let the Sun Shine In and ending with Wonderful World.

So, within me remains the child and perhaps that is one of the miracles of life.

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
My, oh my, what a wonderful day
Plenty of sunshine headin' my way
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay

Mister Bluebird's on my shoulder
It's the truth, it's actual
Ev'rything is satisfactual
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
Wonderful feeling, wonderful day.

So let the sun shine in
Face it with a grin
Smilers never lose
And frowners never win
So let the sun shine in
Face it with a grin
Open up your heart and let the sun shine in

I see trees of green........ red roses too
I see em bloom..... for me and for you
And I think to myself.... what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue..... clouds of white
Bright blessed days....dark sacred nights
And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world.

The colors of a rainbow.....so pretty ..in the sky
Are also on the faces.....of people ..going by
I see friends shaking hands.....sayin.. how do you do
Theyre really sayin......i love you.

I hear babies cry...... I watch them grow
Theyll learn much more.....than Ill never know
And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world