A Prayer for Children We pray (and accept responsibility) for children who sneak popsicles before supper who erase holes in math workbooks who can never find their shoe. And we pray (and accept responsibility) for those who stare at photographs from behind barbed wire who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers who are born in places we wouldn't be caught dead who never go to the circus who live in an x-rated world. We pray (and accept responsibility) for children who bring us sticky kisses and fistsful of dandelions who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money. And we pray (and accept responsibility) for those who never get desserts who have no safe blanket to drag behind them who watch their parents watch them die who can't find any bread to eat who don't have any rooms to clean up whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser whose monsters are real. We pray (and accept responsibility) for children who spend all their allowance before Tuesday who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food who like ghost stories who shove dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse out the tub who get visits from the tooth fairy who don't like to be kissed in front of the car pool who squirm in church and scream in the phone whose tears sometimes we laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry. And we pray (and accept responsibility) for those whose nightmares come in the daytime who will eat anything who have never seen a dentist who aren't spoiled by anybody who go to bed hungry, and cry themselves to sleep who live and move, but have no being. And we pray (and accept responsibility) for children who want to be carried and for those who must, for those we never give up on and for those who don't get a second chance- for those we smother- and for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it. (Adapted from Marian Wright Edelman) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~