“Did you know praying mantises used to be worshiper as Gods?”
“God of bugs?”
“Harvest? Don’t they eat the harvest or something?”
He shook his head. “That’s grasshoppers. They eat insects.”
“And each other.”
“So why did they worship them as Gods?”
“Because, see it’s front arms. It looks like it is praying.”
“Well, sort of.”
They were silent for a few moments, watching the insect on the wall; filled with the wonder of life all around them, thick with the scent of fresh-cut hay and horses.
The shadow of their father fell over them, hands folded in prayer.