An Anonymous Prayer
By Nikita F., Michigan
2026 Write Now Winner - Grades 9 — 12
Before I read, I crossed out every proper noun - my grandmother became “she”, my father became “he”, and I became “someone.” Halfway through, I realized no one was attempting to guess the missing names but rather reciting their very own.
I wondered if God ever confused our prayers. They all sounded alike - apologies masquerading as promises which were only a facade for certainty. Maybe that’s why Scripture remembers shepherds, widows, and prodigals more often than names. Truth survives anonymity. Ego does not. When I stepped off the podium, my memoir no longer belonged to my family.
