Came across this wonderful blog post today. It describes family prayer time perfectly.
When I was growing up, my immature self believed that the family rosary was something that had to be endured. Through no fault of my parents, the nightly ritual was anything but idyllic. My siblings and I were called into our parents’ bedroom where we knelt facing the crucifix. My older brother and I would sneak jabs and pokes at each other and then my mother would scold and separate us. I would often rush through the responses hoping that would speed things up but of course that never worked. My parents would add the Litany of the Saints and other intercessory prayers that made prayer time feel like an eternity to a young child. As I got older, I would make the excuse that I had too much homework or had to study for a test and so I couldn’t take time out…
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