She had intended to teach Anne the childish classic, "Now I lay me down to sleep." But she had, as I have told you, the glimmerings of a sense of humor--which is simply another name for a sense of fitness of things; and it suddenly occurred to her that that simple little prayer, sacred to white-robed childhood lisping at motherly knees, was entirely unsuited to this freckled witch of a girl who knew and cared nothing bout God's love, since she had never had it translated to her through the medium of human love.
"You're old enough to pray for yourself, Anne," she said finally.

"Just thank God for your blessings and ask Him humbly for the things you want." "Well, I'll do my best," promised Anne, burying her face in Marilla's lap.

"Gracious heavenly Father--that's the way the ministers say it in church, so I suppose it's all right in private prayer, isn't it ?" she interjected, lifting her head for a moment.
"Gracious heavenly Father, I thank Thee for the White Way of Delight and the Lake of Shining Waters and Bonny and the Snow Queen.

I'm really extremely grateful for them.

And that's all the blessings I can think of just now to thank Thee for.