Prayer obtains what it is due to obtain — not what I personally want to obtain, which is different. It is useful that islands of prayer exist in the world, even if they are composed of only one person, or two, or three, or four.
And suddenly, there it is, a loud whirring crashing into the silence: a field cricket singing in the fading light. We all stop to listen. From a distance, we must look like a strange bunch, leaning towards a bramble bush. For us, though, the moment is holy. A tiny, solitary creature has the power to lift our spirits.
