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Circle Time

I loved it when we would sit down to have Circle Time. First we would light the candles so we would have something nice to look at and because candles are just pretty. Sometimes it was so dark and scary outside I didn’t want to look. I wanted to look at the candles instead.

The next thing we did was sing “This Little Light of Mine.” My favorite part was where you shouted “No!” I always asked, “When is the ‘no’ part, Mommy?” Back then, it was my favorite song. I hummed it a lot.
Then we would say who we were grateful for. My brother, Bjorn, would usually say he was “gwapeful” for Daddy. The next thing we did was have names for God. That was when you would think of a name that you thought described what God did for you and your family that day. For example, Daddy might say, “My name for God is ‘Comforter,’ ” or Bjorn might say, “My name for God is ‘Daddy‐Maker.’ ”

Next we would talk about holding people in our hands. When we held people in our hands, it meant that they were somebody special or they had been having some problems lately. We thought God should hear that we cared about these people and would be loving to them.

After that we wrote prayers on prayer cards. They were always fun. They were made out of beautiful colored paper. Sometimes the prayer cards had dots. Still others had fringes. They were all so pretty. We always hung the prayer cards on the tree in the living room. I would usually dictate my prayer to Mommy or Daddy.

The last thing of all was blowing the candle out. Me and Bjorn usually fought to blow the candle out. We usually had three candles so one of us got to blow out two. Sometimes Mommy and Daddy would have to blow one out to keep us from fighting.

Sometimes we did circle time lying down in Mommy and Daddy’s bed, all squinched together. It was always cozy and warm. But half the time we fought to go on the right side because that was the side with warm, snuggly Mommy. I never wanted to get out of that cozy comforter to brush my teeth. Mommy and Daddy usually had to tell me that there would be no story unless I got out on the count of three.

When I would lie in bed listening to my mom, my dad, and Bjorn say their prayers, I would feel warmth in my heart, the kind of warmth that made me feel special, special to be in my family, to be in it right then!

Savannah Hauge attends Winnebago Worship Group in east-central Wisconsin. Now 13 years old, she wrote this essay when she was 8 for a homeschool writing workshop.

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