The Year Money Grew on Trees - Aaron Hawkins [34]
I stared at the ceiling for a while and then went to talk to my dad, who was watching The Love Boat on TV. "Have they said what the weather's going to be like tonight?" I asked.
"Tonight? Why, you got a date or something?" He grinned.
"No. It's really important for the trees," I said seriously.
"I think the weather guy said thirty-six degrees for a low in Farmington."
I felt momentary relief but could hardly get to sleep that night because I felt so cold. I woke up still worried about freezing trees. All morning my mom kept saying, "Stop biting your lip, that's not going to help anything." She always nagged that I bit my lip when I was worried.
I was still obsessing on thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit while sitting in Sunday school. I hadn't paid much attention to Brother Brown. "...and Jesus taught we could pray about anything, no matter where we are," he droned dully.
Suddenly, the anxiety became too much. I bit my lip and then started speaking without even raising my hand. "Brother Brown, is it true that if the temperature goes below freezing, it can kill apple blossoms?"
He looked at me as if part of the roof had fallen on his head. He paused, blinked hard, and said impatiently, "Uh, yes, that's true."
"Well, what are you supposed to do about it?"
"Not much you can do," he replied irritably in his croaky voice.
"What about praying? Does that help?"
He paused uncomfortably. I would have thought that a Sunday school teacher was supposed to automatically say yes. He shifted from side to side and looked down. He finally raised his head and looked me square in the eyes. I waited for a deep, profound answer. Slowly he said, "Sometimes." The wrinkles on his face looked tired and deep.
We stared at each other wordlessly. I bit my lip and asked, "Well, do you pray for your trees?" My voice cracked a little on the last words.
This time he didn't hesitate and said more strongly, "Yes."
I finally became aware of all the other faces in the room staring at me. In our class, hearing a voice other than Brother Brown's had been the equivalent of a bomb going off, and everyone was now sitting up in their chairs.
"Sorry for interrupting," I blurted out, and slouched down as far as possible.
***
That afternoon my family was having dinner with my cousins. I gathered all the kids around and told them I had something very important to announce. After discussing the freezing possibility that had been confirmed by a "reliable source," I told them they all had to pray to keep the apples safe.
"I've already been praying for the trees," announced Lisa self-righteously. "But I guess I can include something about them not freezing."
"Should we really be praying to control the weather, though? What if someone else needs it to be cold?" asked Sam.
"Maybe we could pray for it to be warm just around the orchard, and it could be whatever temperature everywhere else," offered Michael.
"Listen, just pray for the apples to survive. That's all he wants," said Amy impatiently.
When we sat down to dinner, I asked if I could say the blessing on the food. The adults acted surprised but readily agreed. I bowed my head seriously and began.
"Our Father which art in heaven. We are thankful for the springtime and for the new blossoms on the trees, especially the apple trees. We are thankful they are still alive after the winter. Please let them stay warm so their apples can live, just anything above thirty-two degrees. Please don't let the work of your children be wasted ... And bless this food. Amen."
All the adults were looking at each other with crooked grins on their faces when I opened my eyes.
"What?" I asked loudly.
"Nothing, honey," said my mom. "That was sweet."
I was fourteen years old, and I wasn't sure I had really meant anything I had prayed before. I knew I wasn't supposed to think about prayers as magic or wishing or anything, but I guess that's what it had felt like in the past. That night when I was alone, I prayed