After my dad left, I know that there were days when my mom was not sure about where the next meal would come from. She always had a small notebook on the kitchen table with literally every penny she spent carefully listed.
Next to her notebook, she always had her church envelopes which she was very diligent about using every week. I remember lots of weeks where she had nothing more than a coin or two to put in the offering for the week. She never looked to get anything in return, but wanted to give back a share of what she had been given.
Another constant in her life was a copy of the Portals of Prayer was always under her pillow. It was a devotional book published by her church denomination. I know that she would use it and I know that she would say the prayers in the back. There was a prayer for each day of the week and ones for special occasions.
I know she prayed. But in the denomination I grew up in prayer was something that lay people didn't talk about a whole lot. Prayers were either written in a book or booklet and others were usually said by a pastor.
Just sitting down and praying together was unheard of at least in my experience.
My mom would listen to me say a "Now I lay me down to sleep" prayer every night." It was the same prayer every night for years. I'd always tack on the phrase at the end where I'd ask God to "bring a message from my daddy." It never happened. But, I did find him when I was in my late twenties.
He did give me a message when I knocked on his door.
He wasn't happy to see me.