The Prayer<br >TH~ MOTHER GIVES TO EACH DAUGHTER A PART OF HER<br >narn~， and during her life each daughter takes the name<br >as he~ own until three separate names grow from one<br >name. The Mother gives to each daughter a part of<br >her face， and during her life she watches her own<br >features transforming in the three separate faces， the<br >faces of her daughters gradually ~hanging into the faces<br >of three other women. And to each daughter the Mother<br >gives a part of her mind. During her life she sees the<br >thread of her own intellect unravel into three separate<br >strands as each daughter holds onto hers not as a gift<br >from the Mother， but as her own refined cord.<br > But her body must give up living， as it is now， before<br >what the Mother did not give is divided by the grab.<br > "Damn the sun，" she curses. "Damn four o clock，"<br >when the sun hits the window of her bedroom shooting<br >the reflections into her eyes. It s painful to move. She<br >~eaehes her arms， the wrinkled flesh hanging like loose<br >skeins of wound wool， to the swollen leg. Then， hold-<br >hag her breath， she shifts her weight， which is not the<br > 3<br ><br >