Peter R. Kohli

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Rosa’s Prayer

The Blau family on their evening walk along the beach. Rosa is holding up the rear.

“Hi God, it’s me, Rosa. I want to thank you for giving me my family. My Daddy and my Mummy, but more for my Daddy because my Mummy gets grouchy when she doesn’t have her coffee in the morning. And for my sister Julia without whom we would all die because she does the cooking, and my brother Timmy because he’s my brother, but not for my aunty Elizabeth or my uncle Jeremy because they’re weird. That’s all, amen.”

George was about to turn away from Rosa’s bedroom door well pleased with what he had heard, when Sybil’s loud voice knocked him back into reality. “George! What are you doing standing there? Are you eavesdropping on our little Rosa as she says her prayers?”

Suddenly George, who was riding on cloud number nine crashed to earth and hoped by saying a little prayer of his own, a giant hole would open in the floor of the nest and swallow him up. Another fantasy. “What have you got to say for yourself?” Sybil, for the first time she could remember, found herself in the enviable position of having the upper hand with George, especially when Rosa was involved. Usually, she was the one struggling to stay afloat with barrage after barrage of back and forth going between her husband and youngest daughter which excluded her.

George not seeing a way out of his current predicament and no hole appearing, smiled. “That’s not quite true,” he replied rather meekly, “I was just going to say good night to Rosa.” “What tripe!” Sybil wasn’t buying that at all. “You’ve already done that.” Yes, George was in an unenviable position. One he couldn’t resolve with his slick words.

Suddenly, to make matters worse, Rosa’s bedroom door opened. There stood the apple of his eye, his beloved youngest daughter in her Minnie Mouse nightgown with stains from dinner still marching down the front of it, holding her favourite Barbie and with her wings on her hips. “Dad!” he heard her say loudly, “were you listening to my prayers?”

George had to try a different tact. One that had never served him well in the past and there was no reason to believe it would this time, but what the heck, something had to work. “Julia told me that you say a different prayer every night and so I thought that was cute,” yes cute had worked before so it probably will this time, “and I wanted to hear the prayer.” A pause, an uncomfortable pause, during which time he tried to find a phrase that would tie everything together in a neat package and be bought by his daughter. As for Sybil, well that was another question all together. “Is that so bad?” George thought that would be the question to bail him out. Never in the past, and not this time either.

“Dad,” continued Rosa now shaking her Barbie at her father, “dad my prayers are a personal conversation between me and God and because it’s personal, you’re not supposed to listen to it.” Silence, dead silence.

All three were searching desperately to come up with the perfect retort. “Yes, exactly George, you should not listen to personal conversations, right Rosa?”

Sybil felt proud she had managed to find the perfect reply. Rosa wanted to give an example. “Right Dad. How would you like it if I told people about your conversations with Mummy when you go to bed and think us kids are asleep?”

‘No,’ thought Sybil, ‘no that’s not right. I’m trying to help you out by making your Dad a bad guy and you’re saying something that could embarrass both of us.’

George smiled, “like what?” he asked.

“Never mind, don’t worry about it,” replied Sybil turning to walk away so that George or Rosa didn’t see the panic on her face.

“Like when Mummy asked you to come ride your horse.”

Sybil nearly broke out into a run and then Rosa asked the question any 7 years old would ask. “I didn’t know you kept a horse in your bedroom Daddy. In fact, I didn’t know you had a horse!”

“Rosa!” it was Timmy who had come out of his bedroom to see what the ruckus was all about. He had just opened the door to hear Rosa talk about his Father’s horse and realising there was a disconnect tried to save the day. By this time Sybil was in the kitchen only to be booted out by Julia who was busy cleaning up after another one of her wonderful dinners. She appeared back in the hallway, the last place she wanted to be now with Timothy in attendance. Oh how embarrassing! She just wished she could go back in time and ignore her husband at Rosa’s bedroom door. But there was no way the genie would go back in the bottle. “Rosa,” continued Timmy feeling he was about to become the knight in shining armour he had always dreamed of being. “Why don’t you and I say the Shema together? I don’t think Mummy or Daddy have heard you say that.”

“But,” Rosa began.

“No Rosa it’s not a personal prayer. The Shema is a prayer you can say anywhere. Not like the prayers you say to God directly.”

Not quite sure how all this was connected, Rosa agreed and went into her room and sat on the bed with Timmy and they closed their eyes. After they had finished, George was beaming. Yes, it was the first time he had ever heard Rosa say the prayer and in Hebrew! He wanted to walk into Rosa’s bedroom to hug both his children but stopped and looked around. Sybil too had a smile on her face and so he walked back to her, held out his wing and they both walked into Rosa’s bedroom together. Soon Julia joined them.

“That was beautiful!” said George and Sybil agreed. Rosa and Timmy were beaming. Forgotten for now was the reason all this had begun in the first place.

“You must be tired young lady,” said Sybil thinking it was time for her to be the mother again. Rosa nodded and Sybil walked over and pulled the bedclothes around Rosa and gave her a peck on the cheek. “George,” Sybil said a second later. “Don’t you think this blanket I made for Rosa is beautiful? What do you think about me making blankets like this and selling them on the internet or at some store?”

George patted the blanket and remarked on the intricate design all over it. “Sybil dear, if you feel you’re up to it, then I would say do it, make yourself some money, but I thought you were going to write a book?”

Sybil thought for a second. “I can do both, can’t I my dear?”

“You can do anything you put your heart to, I’m sure.”

Rosa had her eyes closed with a smile of contentment all over her face. Sybil and George turned to leave. Timmy and Julia had already walked out of the room feeling they were now intruding. It was when both parents had reached the door and George was about to close it, Sybil heard her name being called. She turned. Rosa still had her eyes closed, “Mummy maybe you can make Dad’s horse a blanket first!”

Timmy laughed in the background with Julia. Sybil and George put out the light and closed the door behind them quietly. Rosa never opened her eyes but smiled.