Maude stood in the hot night air, listening to the buzzsaw snoring of her husband Howard. He sprawled, asleep in his grubby work clothes, his muddy boots soiling the comforter. Maude despaired of him ever changing. She prayed endlessly to no avail. His salvation seemed possible only one way. Softly she prayed.
Lord accept home thy son Howard to thy bosom. Keep him until all shall be brought forth for Final Judgment. Amen. Maude paused every few words to strike downward with the cast-iron carpet beater. By the end of her prayer, Howard's soul was truly free of alcohol's vile temptation.