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A Family Prayer

Illustrated by Kristina Swarner
Look inside
Hardcover (Paper-over-Board, no jacket)
$18.99 US
10.28"W x 10.29"H x 0.32"D   | 14 oz | 24 per carton
On sale May 09, 2023 | 40 Pages | 9780593234693
Age 3-7 years | Preschool - 2
A Family Prayer is a beautifully illustrated children’s book that celebrates all the family—biological and chosen alike—who keep us safe and teach us to dream

In A Family Prayer, acclaimed novelist Shay Youngblood brings to life the prayer of a little brown girl who finds joy in asking God to keep her family safe. Young readers will celebrate every auntie, cousin, and grandmother in their life. But more than just her biological relatives, each family member is a maternal or paternal archetype, someone in her community who represents the title of mother, father, auntie, and the like.

My sister is a blessing                             
She keeps my secrets                              
Braids my hair
And helps me find my way
Sisters are a blessing
Keep them safe from harm

My Auntie is a blessing                            
She sings sweet songs                                                     
Rocks me to sleep
and whispers stories in the dark
Aunties are a blessing
Keep them safe from harm

A Family Prayer champions the age-old wisdom that raising a family takes a village—and that the love of a community runs soul deep.
Shay Youngblood is a playwright and the author of Black Girl in Paris, The Big Mama Stories and Soul Kiss. The winner of a Pushcart Prize and a nominee for QPB's New Voices award, she lives in New York City. View titles by Shay Youngblood
Kristina Swarner has been drawing since age three when she decided she wanted to become an artist. She graduated from the Rhode Island School of Design, and her work has been exhibited internationally. Swarner is an award-winning illustrator of books, magazines, greeting cards, and CD covers. She currently works out of her studio in Chicago. View titles by Kristina Swarner
Author’s Note

I grew up an only child in Georgia, my family extending to include those in my neighborhood, school, and church communities. Whether related by blood or not, an African American elder was called auntie or uncle. Young Black men and women called one another brother and sister. Kids my age called one another cousin because we felt as close as siblings.

Nearly three years old when my birth mother died, I was raised in the Southern Baptist Church by a community of mostly older women. We attended church every Sunday and sometimes during the week. I believed in the power of prayer and had faith in miracles. When I was very young, I consistently prayed for my mother to come back to me, and I prayed for siblings. When I was ten years old, I discovered I had an older brother and three younger sisters living in California with the father we shared. My prayers were answered, and we are connected to this day. Of course, my mother didn’t come back to life, but I began to see the world differently. I looked around my community and appreciated the fact that I was blessed with nearly a dozen mothers!

During my childhood, prayer was an essential part of my nighttime ritual. Each evening after homework was done and my favorite television shows were over, I would wash my face, brush my teeth, and get into my pajamas. Before going to sleep, I would kneel beside my bed, fold my hands, close my eyes, and bow my head. My great-grandmother Nettie Mae and my great-aunt Luellen taught me short prayers that I recited each night, but then I would want to pray for everyone I knew: family members, neighbors, teachers, the lunch ladies in the cafeteria, and even cashiers at the grocery store. My prayers were long and sometimes elaborate. At first it was a way to keep the light on in the room a little longer. My prayers were sincere, but I was afraid of the dark, scared that monsters or snakes were under my bed and, most terrifying of all, that some harm might come to the people I loved. Prayer was a way for me to remember that God was watching over everyone I cared about.

When I got older, I no longer knelt beside my bed or said my prayers out loud. I realized that I could pray silently anywhere I wanted for as long as I wanted. Saying a silent prayer whenever I’m afraid comforts me to this day.

The people in my community gave me a strong sense of identity, values to live by, pride in my culture, and a sense of belonging. My hope is that children reading this book will feel the same sense of belonging in their own communities and see how prayer can lift them up as they pray for those they love.

Shay Youngblood

About

A Family Prayer is a beautifully illustrated children’s book that celebrates all the family—biological and chosen alike—who keep us safe and teach us to dream

In A Family Prayer, acclaimed novelist Shay Youngblood brings to life the prayer of a little brown girl who finds joy in asking God to keep her family safe. Young readers will celebrate every auntie, cousin, and grandmother in their life. But more than just her biological relatives, each family member is a maternal or paternal archetype, someone in her community who represents the title of mother, father, auntie, and the like.

My sister is a blessing                             
She keeps my secrets                              
Braids my hair
And helps me find my way
Sisters are a blessing
Keep them safe from harm

My Auntie is a blessing                            
She sings sweet songs                                                     
Rocks me to sleep
and whispers stories in the dark
Aunties are a blessing
Keep them safe from harm

A Family Prayer champions the age-old wisdom that raising a family takes a village—and that the love of a community runs soul deep.

Author

Shay Youngblood is a playwright and the author of Black Girl in Paris, The Big Mama Stories and Soul Kiss. The winner of a Pushcart Prize and a nominee for QPB's New Voices award, she lives in New York City. View titles by Shay Youngblood
Kristina Swarner has been drawing since age three when she decided she wanted to become an artist. She graduated from the Rhode Island School of Design, and her work has been exhibited internationally. Swarner is an award-winning illustrator of books, magazines, greeting cards, and CD covers. She currently works out of her studio in Chicago. View titles by Kristina Swarner

Excerpt

Author’s Note

I grew up an only child in Georgia, my family extending to include those in my neighborhood, school, and church communities. Whether related by blood or not, an African American elder was called auntie or uncle. Young Black men and women called one another brother and sister. Kids my age called one another cousin because we felt as close as siblings.

Nearly three years old when my birth mother died, I was raised in the Southern Baptist Church by a community of mostly older women. We attended church every Sunday and sometimes during the week. I believed in the power of prayer and had faith in miracles. When I was very young, I consistently prayed for my mother to come back to me, and I prayed for siblings. When I was ten years old, I discovered I had an older brother and three younger sisters living in California with the father we shared. My prayers were answered, and we are connected to this day. Of course, my mother didn’t come back to life, but I began to see the world differently. I looked around my community and appreciated the fact that I was blessed with nearly a dozen mothers!

During my childhood, prayer was an essential part of my nighttime ritual. Each evening after homework was done and my favorite television shows were over, I would wash my face, brush my teeth, and get into my pajamas. Before going to sleep, I would kneel beside my bed, fold my hands, close my eyes, and bow my head. My great-grandmother Nettie Mae and my great-aunt Luellen taught me short prayers that I recited each night, but then I would want to pray for everyone I knew: family members, neighbors, teachers, the lunch ladies in the cafeteria, and even cashiers at the grocery store. My prayers were long and sometimes elaborate. At first it was a way to keep the light on in the room a little longer. My prayers were sincere, but I was afraid of the dark, scared that monsters or snakes were under my bed and, most terrifying of all, that some harm might come to the people I loved. Prayer was a way for me to remember that God was watching over everyone I cared about.

When I got older, I no longer knelt beside my bed or said my prayers out loud. I realized that I could pray silently anywhere I wanted for as long as I wanted. Saying a silent prayer whenever I’m afraid comforts me to this day.

The people in my community gave me a strong sense of identity, values to live by, pride in my culture, and a sense of belonging. My hope is that children reading this book will feel the same sense of belonging in their own communities and see how prayer can lift them up as they pray for those they love.

Shay Youngblood