But he only said, “Let’s say grace.” And before Mom could start to pray, and make his coffee really cold, Dad hurriedly said, “Dear Heavenly Father, we come before Thee to thank Thee for this food, and I pray that Thou wilt lead us in Thy will. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

He looked up and took a bite of his roll almost before he finished saying amen. But Mom kept her head bowed a minute longer and her eyes closed to show she was more spiritual than Dad. Dad didn’t even glance at her because he knew exactly what she was doing but wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of catching him looking at her when she opened her eyes and said, “Amen,” very softly, as if she was “praying in secret” but really knew all along that she was actually getting even with Dad for having been so surly about her face cream first thing in the morning and not even noticing how she was being like the bride of Christ and all.

She poured out her tea and the pot steamed up and Dad glanced at her and said, “It seems your tea is hot enough.”

“Would you like my tea? Here, let me take your coffee. I don’t mind, dear.” She said it all in a sorry, meek and mournful voice to show how sacrificial, unselfish, and humble she was. And how good she was, compared to Dad, who put such a lot of store by “the cares of this life.”

“Aren’t we so sweet?” he said. The way he said it meant the opposite. It meant he knew Mom thought she was a lot more Christ-like than he was, and what’s more he knew she was too, but that it didn’t make him like her any better.