“What would I say?” I ask. “If I wanted to, you know, pray?” Two of my mother’s synagogue friends eye me jealously from across the room. I would die if anyone overheard this conversation. “Well, there are books. But you can also just say what’s in your heart. Say what feels right to you.” “But … where would I even start?” “Oh, you can start very simple,” he says. “Two of my favorite prayers are ‘Help me’ and ‘Thank you.’” “Those are prayers?” “Those are excellent prayers.”