A prayerful life

It has been cold, and snow has been teasing the corners of the sky, which hangs heavy and low.
Waiting for the first snow of the season is delicious!
I made soup last night for dinner.
It's perfect soup weather.
I have been home with Daniel, who has a sinus infection. Yucky. He is so pleasant though, even when he is sick.
"Mom! I got boogies! I need a Kee-nex!" he says.
Melt your heart, right?
He is going through this phase where he wants you to kiss him on both his cheeks, and if, somehow, the kisses get wiped off, he comes to you seeking replacement kisses. He loves to give dad "knucks" too. And he can be heard yelling out "love you too, boys!!" after they have been tucked in.
Last night we had company, and I sent the boys to bed, but did not follow them in to pray with them, as per our usual custom.
Daniel would have none of that.
He came and got me up from my seat and led me into their room, chastising me in his little voice, "Mom, we gotta pray with the boys!"
And so we did.
Prayer is so important, and I want the boys to know that.
Gandhi said "Prayer is the key of the morning and the bolt of the evening."
Sitting together in the boys' room, each praying our love, our thanks for the day and the graces of God, our admission of neediness, our hopes for tomorrow, I thought about this quote.
Words to live by.
The boys do this "pray on the way" thing on the way to school. They take turns praying in the car before we get to the building.
And we make sure we pray together at night, most nights anyway.
The key of the morning and the bolt of the evening.
Hopefully, this is something that is getting in their bones at their young ages, and will be something they a carry with them into their old ages.