The Miracle of One dollar and eleven cents

A little girl went into her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even.. The total had to be exactly perfect.. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 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 too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing.

She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good.

Finally she took a quarter from her 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 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 the same tone. ‘He’s really, really sick….and I want to buy him 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 said, softening his tone 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 was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, ‘What kind of miracle does your brother need?’ ‘I don’t know,’ Tess replied with her eyes welling up. I just know he’s 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. ‘And it’s all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.’ ‘Well, what a coincidence,’ smiled the man. ‘A dollar and eleven cents-the exact price of a miracle for little brothers.’ He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said, ‘Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let’s see if we have the miracle you need.’

That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of 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 led them to this place. ‘That surgery,’ her mom 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 child. In our lives, we never know how many miracles we will need. A miracle is not in the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law.


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A miracle of tears

It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth.
It was a dry season which would bankrupt several farmers before it was through. Every day, my husband and his brothers would go through the arduous process of trying to get water to the fields. Lately this process had involved taking a truck to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water. But severe rationing had cut everyone off. If we didn't see some rain soon...we would lose everything.

It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes. I was in the kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers when I saw my six-year old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn't walking with the usual carefree abandon of a youth but with a serious purpose. I could only see his back. He was obviously walking with a great effort...trying to be as still as possible. Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running out again, toward the house.

I went back to making sandwiches; thinking that whatever task he had been doing was completed. Moments later, however, he was once again walking in that slow purposeful stride toward the woods. This activity went on for an hour: walk carefully to the woods, run back to the house.

Finally I couldn't take it any longer and I crept out of the house and followed him on his journey (being very careful not to be seen...as he was obviously doing important work and didn't need his Mommy checking up on him). He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked; being very careful not to spill the water he held in them...maybe two or three tablespoons were held in his tiny hands.

I sneaked close as he went into the woods. Branches and thorns slapped his little face by he did not try to avoid them, He had a much higher purpose. As I leaned in to spy on him, I saw the most amazing sight. Several large deer loomed in front of him. Billy walked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get away. A huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But the buck did not threaten him...he didn't even move as Billy knelt down. And I saw a tiny fawn lying on the ground, obviously suffering from dehydration and heat exhaustion, lift its head with great effort to lap up the water cupped in my beautiful boy's hand.

When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I hid behind a tree. I followed him back to the house to a spigot that we had shut off the water to. Billy opened it all the way up and a small trickle began to creep out. He knelt there, letting the drip, drip slowly fill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little back.

And it came clear to me. The trouble he had gotten into for playing with the hose the week before. The lecture he had received about the importance of not wasting water. The reason he didn't ask me to help him. It took almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands.

When he stood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His little eyes just filled with tears.

"I'm not wasting," was all he said.

As he began his walk, I joined him...with a small pot of water from the kitchen. I let him tend to the fawn. I stayed away. It was his job. I stood on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I have every known working so hard to save another life.

As the tears that rolled down my face began to hit the ground, they were suddenly joined by other drops...more drops...and more. I looked up at the sky. It was as if God, himself, was weeping with pride.

Some will probable say that this was just a huge coincidence. That miracles don't really exist. That it was bound to rain sometime. And I can't argue with that...I'm not going to try. All I can say is that the rain that came that day saved our farm...just like that actions of one little boy saved another.


Lovely Thoughts for Lovely People Just Like You