I Grew Up Believing in Both Jesus and the Buddha
Two children commence dinner with a Christian prayer and the Buddhist ritual of Gasshō
“It’s your turn to pray,” says the mother.
Jarrod and his brother are sitting at a wooden dining table. Their feet have yet to reach the ground from their chairs.
Jarrod clasps his little hands together and shuts his eyes while the aroma of miso soup and chicken adobo rises from the table.
“Dear Jesus,” he says. “Thank you for the food.”
Meanwhile, the father’s eyes remain open, slowly wandering the walls. His hands are resting, not in prayer, but on his lap.
“Amen,” Jarrod continues.
The brother and mother respond in unison. “Amen.”
The father keeps silently aback.
As the mother and her sons raise their heads from prayer, the father suddenly presses his hands together — but only the children follow.
“Namu Amida Butsu,” the three boys recite.
I take refuge in the Buddha.
The mother is sitting quietly this time as she lets her husband’s tradition take its place.
