Once, long ago in the middle of nowhere, a small altar was raised to an unnamed deity. The altar was simple in design – a windowsill ledge with a small stub of a candle, a handwritten note, and a child's messy drawing of a woman, beautiful and kindly with golden hair and open arms. A small hand picked up the note and the child read it over one last time.
"To whoever might be listening to my prayer: I feel lost and hopeless. I'm not doing well in school and Father gets mad at me a lot and I get bullied a lot. They tell me I'm useless and that I'm not trying to be good, but I am. I need someone to help me. I think if I can do better in school, I will get in trouble less. If anyone is listening to my prayers, please come to my aid. I won't ask for much. I want someone to help me be better off so I can be happy. I just want to be happy again."
Folding the letter with a sigh, the child placed it under the unlit candle on the windowsill. If only they knew that someone was listening, they would have the strength to face the days to come.
But what the child didn't know is that not far away, in a plane of existence adjacent to our own, a new Being was sparked into existence, a child's simple prayer ringing in their mind.