The Prayer I Never Told Anyone About
I crept out of bed and sat on the cold bathroom floor with my back against the bathtub.
The tile felt like the only honest thing in the house.
I counted cracks in the grout like it could keep my mind from drowning.
I’d never been the kind of person who prayed out loud.
But that night, desperation made me do it.
I said, “Dear God… please. If You give me a child, I promise I’ll save one too.”
“If I become a mom, I will give a home to a child who has none.”
The words hung in the air.
And I felt… nothing.
I sobbed and asked, “Do you even hear me?”
I never told John about that prayer.
Not even later.
Not even when I got an answer.
Ten months later, Stephanie was born.
Pink and furious and screaming like she had places to be.
John and I cried and clung to each other and poured all the love we’d been saving into her tiny body.
Joy consumed me.
But memory sat beside it.
Because I had made a promise.
And I needed to keep it.
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