for small activism
O You Who Plant Trees from Mustard Seeds,
When my daughter becomes despairing over the state of the world
—which she will—
when she realizes that her biggest efforts are only a ripple in the pond
—which is true—
when she wants to give up because caring just hurts too much
—which it does—
bring her back to the face right in front of her. Remind her that
smallness is not the same as nothingness. Get her to take a nap.
Pour her some water.
And when she is ready once more
—which she will be—
present before her actions she can take
in her town,
on her street,
in her home,
in the smallest spaces, the least sexy spaces, the spaces that don’t
seem to matter much.
Stroke her hair and whisper in her ear,
Now then, my beloved, this is how you change the world.
Amen.
Content taken from Feminist Prayers for My Daughter by Shannon K. Evans, ©2023. Used by permission of Brazos Press, a division of Baker Publishing Group.
for seeing color
O First Artist,
You have delighted in the creation of skin color.
You have created a kaleidoscope of humanity.
When my daughter first notices the skin of her neighbor,
may the revelation bring a celebration of diversity.
When she asks questions about other ethnicities,
may her curiosity lead to appreciation.
When she learns about racism’s potent history,
may it stir within her courage and empathy.
When I am the one she looks to for answers,
give me wisdom, clarity, and honesty.
When another suggests it is best to be colorblind,
bring to her mind the beauty of a tapestry.
May she reject the idolization of colorblindness.
May she see color.
And in seeing color, may she see each person for who they are.
Amen.
Content taken from Feminist Prayers for My Daughter by Shannon K. Evans, ©2023. Used by permission of Brazos Press, a division of Baker Publishing Group.