Friday, March 31, 2006

The Power of Prayer and Hand Turkeys

Last Thanksgiving, I reached a milestone as a parent. My son made his first hand turkey at pre-school. He presented it to me and asked if I would hang it in my office.

Now, I know a lot of guys who balk at hanging their children's artwork in their work space. Not me. I love every bit of it. I proudly took it to work and attached it to one of my metal shelves along with his other contributions.

A couple weeks ago I had the opportunity to move to a larger office. Late on a Friday, I moved all my books, papers and various electrical doo-dads along with my art collection. Things were still in disarray when I left for the day.

Over the course of the next few days, I arranged my new office. I soon realized something disturbing.

My hand turkey was gone.

I had my paper valentine, my little painted wooden sled, my Jackson Pollock-like painting (on glorious 11x17 paper, no less), and my bejeweled heart box. But no turkey.

I looked in the old office, in every desk drawer. I shuffled through files and folders and planners.

No turkey.

A few days later, my wife and son came to visit over lunch and check out my news digs. The inevitable moment came: "Daddy, where is your turkey?", he said with confused pleading.

Busted.

I informed him that I had misplaced during the move, but that I was sure it would turn up.

"Oh." he said, disappointed.

I did keep looking, though with less zeal, over the next several days. Every night, upon my return home, my son would ask me if I had found it. I always had to tell him the bad news. He remained upbeat, however.

As the days passed, he too lost hope, though. "Maybe someone threw it in the garbage", he said.

"Maybe", I resigned. I gave up.

Until today. I did not want to dissapoint my little boy. I wanted to find that turkey.

So I prayed. I prayed to God, the creator of the Universe, my Lord and Savior, to help me find a hand turkey.

"Please, Father, help me to find this. Not for me, but for my son, whom I love very much."

I started looking again, but my attention kept going back to one spot, one shelf. I recalled that I had brought a shelf over from my old office and placed it next to an existing one. Had I already hung the turkey when I put that shelf up?

I peered between the thin gap betweeen the two shelves. There was something back there.

Paper.

I grabbed an envelope and began to dislodge the item. Slowly, it came into view.

I had found my turkey.

Was it my prayer? I don't know. I have read that God will answer our prayers if they are earnest. I will not pray for a million dollars. I know that God would not listen to such a shallow and superficial request.

But today, I think God answered my prayer for a hand turkey from a wonderful little boy.

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