This is Lee Habib, and this is our American stories, and we tell stories about everything here on this show.

And our favorite stories are our listener's stories.

They're your stories.

Our next story comes to us from Paul in Minneapolis, Minnesota. And our favorite stories are our listener's stories. They're your stories.

Our next story comes to us from Paul.

In Minneapolis, Minnesota, Paul moved our listeners with his story, Wilbur and the Empty Nestor,

and a baby boomer's battle with insanity and fitness.

We asked him if he had any more.

Here he is with a story simply titled Moose Prayer.

Have you ever seen a moose? I have. They're big, strong, powerful, and athletic.

Have you ever wanted to be a moose? I did. I lived with a moose all throughout my childhood,

growing up in Bloomington, Minnesota, the middle child of a cluster of eight devout Catholic kids.

I have three older brothers, one older sister, two younger brothers, and one younger sister.

I grew up idolizing my older siblings, what I wouldn't have given to be as cool as them.

Such was the thought of this impressionable little brother.

It was Tom, the firstborn, five years my senior, that I most wanted to emulate.

His nickname, Moose.

A three-sport star at Kennedy High School, larger than life in my ten-year-old eyes.

To a fifth grader, a fifteen-year-old moose may as well have been Paul Bunyan.

He could do it all. What does this have to do with a moose prayer?

Let me start by asking, have you ever wondered whether God is listening to your prayers?

I have wondered the same. As a high school sophomore, I remember praying that the cute, energetic cheerleader would fall head over heels for me.

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