The Power of Prayer

My father taught me an important life and spiritual lesson one day, and I wonder if he even realized he was doing it.

When I was around eight or nine years old, we got a new female puppy.  She was more or less a heinz 57 (or so my father would say).  She was just basically a mutt, short-haired dog.  We named her Snoopy.

Now, I am an animal lover, and I used to love spending time with puppies.   I sort of claimed Snoopy as my own.  I would carry her around on my shoulders, and just wile away my time playing with her.  In some ways, it seemed to me it was sort of an unconditional love.  I mean, I have ADHD, but did not know or understand even what that was until my oldest son was in first grade.  I used to do a lot of acting out, and be obnoxious to friends of my brothers and sisters.  I could not sit still, and could not concentrate on one thing for very long.  Sitting the long days in school was especially hard for me.  I remember daydreaming a lot.  So, having a puppy was some comfort when it seemed (to me) that everyone else looked down at me.

So, all my acting out, and not thinking about many of the things I would do, often caused me to get into trouble.  I used to think my parents didn't love me, or that others were just out to get me.  I never connected the two until I became an adult with my own children.

Having animals to spend time with gave me some sort of comfort from the outside world that "didn't like me so much."  Animals always liked me.  I have always taken comfort spending time with them.

Snoopy and I were best pals.  One day I was carrying her over my shoulder, and for some reason she slipped and fell to the ground.  She must have hit her head or something, because suddenly she was paralyzed.  I was very scared, and did not know what to do.  It must have been a Saturday, or an early evening, because my father was home.

I went directly to my father, and explained to him that I did not know what happened, but that Snoopy fell and was now not able to move.  I was very scared, and thought I had permanently injured her.

I was surprised that dad did not yell, or run out to see what had happened.  Maybe he didn't think I was serious, or didn't know what I was talking about.  Maybe, since I had eight or nine other siblings at the time, he was just preoccupied with keeping the peace.  He simply looked at me, and calmly said something to the effect, "I guess you better pray, and ask Heavenly Father for help."  A bit surprised I didn't think of that myself, I figured that if anyone could help Snoopy Heavenly Father could.

I went back outside where I had left her, then found a spot in the yard where I could be alone for a few minutes, and prayed my heart out.  I do not know what I said, other than to ask Heavenly Father to help my little friend.  I am sure I told Him that I was sorry, but did not mean her any harm.

Anyone reading this is going to think I simply made this up, but I tell you within a few minutes Snoopy began to move her limbs.  She stood up, and was finally back to her jovial puppy self.  And I was a humbled little boy who has believed strongly in the power of prayer ever since.  It was a powerful lesson with a tangible result.

Snoopy went on to live another 13 or 14 years, having had numerous litters of puppies, having had numerous run-ins with porcupines and skunks, and just living out the life of a country dog.  She finally succumbed to something that caused her to have tumors all over her body.  I suspect it was a form of cancer.

I'll always be grateful to that little puppy, and to my father for reminding me of what I could do about any situation in my life.  I have a firm testimony of prayer, and that God truly does answer them - when we are humble, and sincere.  I have many more examples of answers to prayer that I may someday share.