There is something sacred about a heartfelt prayer offered by another person. It could come from a parent, a friend, a coworker, a stranger—or even someone society might overlook, such as a homeless man on the street. The source does not limit the power. It is the intention behind the words that carries weight.
Years ago, I had a chance to witness both the beauty of a prayer and the weight of a curse. I was in a place where I met a man whose family upheld a beautiful tradition. In their home, especially among mothers, prayer was woven into everyday life. It was more than habit—it was an offering of love.
One day, as we entered his home, he handed his mother a few roses. She smiled, held them gently, and said, “They’re beautiful. Thank you. May your touch turn dust into gold.”
At first, I didn’t quite grasp what she meant. Later, he explained, “That blessing is one of the greatest gifts someone can give. In this culture, mothers are sacred. They give everything—time, comfort, their own meals—so their children can be safe. When they speak from the heart, their words carry power.”
He described how their prayers were believed to rise like smoke into the unseen, carried to something higher, returning as grace in physical form.
He added quietly, “The opposite is true, too. Curses are real. A curse can move mountains in the wrong direction.”
I was familiar with the idea of blessings. But the idea of a curse—especially from someone close—left me skeptical. Could someone’s words really hold such destructive force?
Sensing my hesitation, he asked, “Remember my mother’s uncle?”
“I do,” I replied.
He nodded. “He died in terrible circumstances. No one came to his funeral. It wasn’t just misfortune. He was disrespectful to his parents for most of his life. He caused them constant pain. One day, his mother said, ‘The day will come when you’ll beg for forgiveness.’ Years later, that day came. He lost his money, his health, and eventually his dignity. It was as though something had turned against him.”
Whether it was karma, consequence, or curse—it left a mark.
Even then, part of me needed something closer to home to truly understand.
That understanding came unexpectedly, in a story my own mother once shared.
From a young age, she carried a deep love for everyone. Not just those near her, but people across the world. As a girl, she was especially close to her grandmother. One afternoon, her grandmother smiled and said, “You are such a kind soul. I hope your child turns out just as loving as you.”
My mother had prayed for a daughter. But life had other plans. I was born instead. She admitted, with complete honesty, that she felt some initial disappointment. Not because she didn’t want me, but because she had imagined a different outcome. Still, she embraced what came, and moved forward with faith.
Years later, she told me this story. I wasn’t hurt. On the contrary, it deepened our bond. She raised me on her own, with a love that never wavered. Even after I moved out, the connection between us remained unbroken.
Looking back, she said with a smile, “God had a better plan. I prayed for a daughter, but I got what I truly needed.”
It was a beautiful reminder: prayers don’t always arrive in the shape we expect, but they often bring exactly what is needed.
That brings me to a question some people ask: How do I pray for someone I care about—genuinely, powerfully? And what about those darker moments, when anger tempts us to wish harm?
There’s a simple truth: energy returns. Earl Nightingale once said, “If you believe you can enrich yourself by diluting others, you can only end by diluting yourself. It may take some time but just as surely as you breathe, you’ll get back what you put out.”
Call it karma. Call it energy. Call it Newton’s third law: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Words are no exception.
So here is a gentle way to pray for someone:
Set your intention clearly.
Example: I want to send love and strength to my sister who is going through a hard time.
Wish for her highest good.
You may not know what’s best for her—only that they find peace and strength in whatever path unfolds.
Speak the words out loud.
Not loudly, just clearly enough that you can hear them. Let your own ears receive your heart’s message.
Visualize them in joy.
Hold her image in your mind’s eye—see her smiling, peaceful, whole. Let your thoughts flow gently without control.
Be intentional with your words.
Don’t just say something. Mean it. Each word should carry the full weight of your care, as if explaining something precious to a child. You should know the words you speak as if you were defining them with clarity.
For instance, consider the word comprehend:
COMPREHEND
1.) To understand mentally; to grasp the meaning or nature of something.
(Example: He could not comprehend the reason behind her actions.)
2.) To include or contain within something; to consist of.
(Example: The course comprehends several advanced topics in mathematics.)
Synonyms: understand, grasp, perceive; include, encompass, embrace
Antonyms: misunderstand, misinterpret; exclude, omit
This is how deeply you should feel your prayer—as if each word is so clear, you could explain it with precision. Say your words from the heart, just as you once told someone you loved them and meant every syllable. That kind of sincerity is unmistakable.
And then, once you’ve spoken—let it go.
Don’t keep asking, “Why hasn’t it happened yet?” Let the energy move on its own. Trust what was sent.
Words carry power. With them, you can build peace, strength, and healing—not just for others, but for yourself.
Begin with the people or things you love. Speak from the heart. Let your care expand from there. Whatever you choose to believe in—God, energy, the universe, science—know this: what comes from the heart never goes unheard.
And in case no one reminded you lately: you are loved.
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