A minor blasphemy

It must have been around 1970. My sister Carolyn was back at home for some occasion or other. At the dinner table my father returned thanks in his usual way. “Father, bless this food to our use and us to thy service. In Christ’s name we pray. Amen.” Then in those seconds of silence before the clink and clank of the table restarted, Carolyn was saying brightly, “All things come of thee, O Papa.” You could hear her grinning. My mother set her jaw and gave a brief shake of her head, like a tiny tremor. That was her sign of unacceptability, My father looked puzzled for a moment. I burst out laughing.