“Wherefore I also, after I heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus, and love unto all the saints, cease not to give thanks for you, making mention of you in my prayers; that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give unto you the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of him.”

Maryann closed the book gently and smiled at the small circle of elderly women in folding chairs down here in the church basement. “Today’s topic is ‘attitude of gratitude.’ And before we begin, I’d like to say that I’m very happy to be here, leading my first prayer circle here at Epiphany. Let’s go around the circle so we can introduce ourselves and mention something we’re grateful for. We’ll make a list and include all these things in our final prayer this morning. Shall we?”

The woman in the chair to her left laughed pleasantly. “It’s nice to meet you, Maryann. I’m Evelyn, and I’m thankful for my five beautiful grandchildren.”

The next woman murmured approvingly. “Helen here. I’m grateful for my health and old friends.”

“Lovely,” Maryann agreed, dutifully recording both items.

“My name is Beatrice,” said a tiny little woman in a straw hat decorated around the brim with silk bumble bees. “Oral sex.”

Maryann’s pen skidded across the page. “I’m sorry?”

“Oral sex,” Beatrice reiterated, a little louder. “Surely you’ve heard of it.”

“Perhaps she’s a virgin,” Helen whispered.

“I’m not a—”

Evelyn shook her head. “What are you, forty? You know what oral sex is, dear.”

“Oral sex is the proper name for it, anyway” Beatrice continued. The bumble bee hat bobbed on her head as she spoke. “It was a godsend back when I had my hysterectomy. How can a loving couple possibly be expected not to do anything for six whole weeks?”

“Jack and I only managed two,” Helen confided. “After each of our children was born, we could never go the entire three weeks.”

“Well, that’s my point,” said Beatrice. “I took care of Wally, and when he had his prostate operation last year, he took care of me every night.”

“Ladies, ladies!” Maryann cleared her throat sternly. “I’ll just put ‘love’ on the list. Let’s move on. What’s your name?”

“Oral sex,” Beatrice repeated. “I was very specific about that.”

The next woman shook her head sweetly. “There’s nothing wrong with it, you know.”

Maryann blushed. “Well, what are you grateful for?”

“Well, I’m Daisy, I’m Deacon Fred’s wife, and I’m thankful for Viagra.”

She sighed and stuck her pen into the spiral of her notebook. “Now, let’s be serious, Daisy.”

“I am serious, young lady. Have you ever gone six years without sex? Viagra’s the best thing that’s ever happened to us. That’s V-I-A-G-R-A.” She reached into an enormous white pocketbook and brought out a handful of hard candies wrapped in cellophane. “Butterscotch, anyone?”

Copyright 2006 Amy Frushour Kelly, except Ephesians 1:15-17, which is obviously copyright the apostle Paul (although I didn’t ask him for permission to quote). All rights reserved. Reproduction by any means prohibited without prior written consent.