It’s me, Noah. I’m sure you’ve heard many prayers over the past few days, asking You to ease the haze situation in Singapore. I’d like to add mine too, if You don’t mind.
You see, my daddy is flying home from his business trip later this evening, and I’m worried that the pilot won’t be able to see very well through the haze. Please clear the skies, so that the air traffic controllers can guide the pilots properly, and help all the planes to land safely. Daddy has been away since Wednesday, and though that might seem like a really short time to You, it feels much longer to me. I’ve been asking mummy for ‘Pa Pa’, but all she will tell me is, ‘Ma Ma’. I know she’s Mama, but from the way she keeps repeating it to me, I suspect she thinks I’M Mama. Maybe I should let her get more sleep at night. Hmmm.
Oh, thank You for healing me of my fever! It feels so good not having to take that pink medicine anymore. Mummy is still forcing me to take the cough and phlegm medicine, and I’m trying to be brave about it. I really do hate the nasal spray and nose drops, so please take away my runny nose and cough quickly. I think my recovery has been affected by the haze, but mummy doesn’t have any masks that will fit me. How can we little children be properly protected from the haze? I’m pretty sure I’ll pull off any mask that is placed on my face, and I think anyone my age would do the same too.
We’ve been hiding in our air-conditioned room today, and frankly, I’m really BORED. I spend my time crawling around, opening the cupboards, and trying to slide open the wardrobe doors, hoping to find more interesting things inside, but mummy keeps thwarting my efforts. She says there are only clothes inside, but I suspect she must have something really exciting hidden in them. I think the floors are dustier than usual, but I can’t be sure, because each time I try to lick the floor (How else am I supposed to check if it’s dustier?), mummy says, “NO.”
Hey, there are books in here too!
God, mummy says that this haze can be cleared if You send rain to our little, no-longer-sunny, island. Could You please have mercy on all of us here, and send a really heavy downpour to wash this horrible haze away? I promise not to sing the ‘Rain Rain Go Away’ song anymore, because now I know that little children can play in the rain, but not in the haze.
Thank You for hearing my little prayer, God.
In Jesus’ Name I pray,