An American Prayer of Thanks
Or, for those who know it more personally, The Golliher Prayer
“Golliher” is not pronounced as it is written. It is not “Goll-i-her.” It is “Gol-yer.” One can thank the curious, American blending of European surnames for producing this idiosyncratic creature.
For as long as I can remember, my grandmother would lead the family in prayer over every shared meal. She was a Quaker, and she was the kind of person you’d hope to have in your religion, if you have one.
She embodied one of the classic American stories: worked hard, kept the farm books (and did the often overlooked, but always heavily relied-upon work of a farm wife), attended The Dublin Friends Meetinghouse every Sunday (and then some), had a heart attack and then lived another half century anyway (she died near 100), and was my first friend outside my nuclear family.
Her name was Frances Golliher, and her prayer, The Golliher Prayer, went like this:
Our hands we fold,
Our heads we bow,
For this fine food,
We thank You now—
Amen.
Simple. Forthright. Honest. Looking God in the face.
It’s possible to rush such a short, rhyming prayer, but she always gave every word and line its due course.
She passed when I was still young, but her imprint is lasting.
As an adult I live with a wonderful group of friends in New York City, and I do not have a religious worldview (in the traditional sense of the word, anyway). I believe in the greatness of Humanity, and consider it divine in its own potential and right.
But Grandma’s worldview is not so distinct from mine, not really; like her, I believe that a hardworking people, when they come together, should take a moment to give thanks and have a moment of account. It is good and proper to reflect upon abundance—else we tend to lose it and take it for granted.
So, starting with her example, I offer my version of The Golliher Prayer, which you can call “An American Prayer of Thanks” if you aren’t so well acquainted with a Golliher. This is what I want to pass down, as Grandma passed her prayer down to me:
From the Earth, steady work, and conscience strict,
By a hand, at mind’s command, this abundance picked,
For our sustenance and joy, hale vigor fixed.
We recall times less easy,
And souls less kind,
But now’s the time, we keep in mind
Our fortune,
Our gifts,
Our mercies,
Our friends.
By communion’s strength,
This meal’s endowed,
With purpose, grace,
And a group, all proud,
Who valedict:
Our hands we fold,
Our heads we bow,
For what we have,
We give thanks now—
Amen.
