Praying for an Onion

In my recent summer read, the little sister in the story prayed for an onion.  Her family’s fortunes had recently been reversed and while other members prayed vigorously for a new house, this little girl prayed for an onion.  She wanted to make their supper more palatable.  The onion arrived and eventually a new home and then a happy ending too.  I thought about that little girl’s prayer this summer while I waded through some unexpected problems.   My fairly new car had an extra-large repair bill, I hurt my knee, a vicious summer cold overtook me, and someone I love very much is sick again.  I could have prayed for a new vehicle, health for me and those I care about.  Instead, I was shut down…unable to kneel in both prayer and reality…

Have you noticed that when a season is almost over, we cling to it ever more tightly?  That’s how I feel right now.   I love this strangely still pause between summer and autumn when I know the warm days are numbered even though they are still ever beautiful.  Fall is on the back lot waiting for its queue but you would never know.  Just yet.  So much of my summer has been fretful and so now aware that the season can’t last forever and will rush away soon, I grasp at it in the hopes of recovering some of the time I lost in worry and headaches.

But I wonder now that if instead of worry and headaches, I should have prayed for an onion.  Not a real one of course, but a small, seemingly insignificant thing that could have made a difference in my situation.  Maybe I could have prayed for a great little rental car (I didn’t even think of it), relief from work while I nursed my cold and knee, time to spend a day with my sick loved one.  Onions all because although they would not have cured anything, they could have made the time more fragrant, special, uplifted…even blessed.

All is well now and for that I am grateful.  But I know I could have handled it better and maybe there’s still time before this beautiful summer waves its warm goodbye.  Instead of looking too far ahead and searching for perfect endings, I’ll pray for an onion or two to see me through summer’s precious last days.