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It Will Take A Miracle
Tess went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully... three times, even. The total had to be just right. No chance for a mistake here. Carefully putting the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way six blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door. She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention but he was busy.
Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffling noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat. No good. Finally she took a quarter from the jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!
"And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. "I'm talking to my brother who is visiting from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply to his question.
"Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in her annoyed tone of voice. "He's really, really sick... and I want to buy a miracle."
"I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist.
"His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?"
"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you," the pharmacist replied, softening his tone of voice a little.
"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs."
The pharmacist's brother had been listening to this conversation. He stooped down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?"
"I don't know," Tess replied with tears welling up in her eyes. "I just know he's really, really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money."
"How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago.
"One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered, barely audible. "It's all the money I have."
"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven cents is the exact price of a miracle for little brothers."
He took her glass jelly jar in one hand; with the other he grasped her little hand inside of the mitten and said, "Take me to where you live. I want to see your little brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the kind of a miracle you need."
The brother from Chicago was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neurosurgery. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well. Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this moment. "That surgery," her mother whispered, "was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?"
Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost... one dollar and eleven cents... plus the faith of a little girl.
What is a Miracle?
A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law!
"And God wrought special miracles by the hands of Paul." (Acts 19:11)
From the book Especially for Moms — by Robert J. Strand
(used by permission)
By Kevin Rayner
A little boy was told by his doctor that he could save his sister's life by giving her some blood. The six-year-old girl was near death, a victim of disease from which the boy had made a marvelous recovery two years earlier. Her only chance for restoration was a blood transfusion from someone who had previously conquered the illness. Since the two children had the same rare blood type, the boy was the ideal donor.
"Johnny, would you like to give your blood for Mary?" the doctor asked.
The boy hesitated. His lower lip started to tremble. Then he smiled, and said, "Sure, Doc. I'll give my blood for my sister."
Soon the two children were wheeled into the operating room--Mary, pale and thin; Johnny, robust and the picture of health. Neither spoke, but when their eyes met, Johnny grinned.
As his blood siphoned into Mary's veins, one could almost see new life come into her tired body. The ordeal was almost over when Johnny's brave little voice broke the silence, "Say Doc, when do I die?"
It was only then that the doctor realized what the moment of hesitation, the trembling of the lip, had meant earlier. Little Johnny actually thought that in giving his blood to his sister he was giving up his life! And in that brief moment, he had made his great decision!