The Miracle
Tess was a precocious eight year old when she heard her Mom
and Dad talking about her little brother, Andrew. All she knew was that he was
very sick and they were completely out of money. They were moving to an
apartment complex next month because Daddy didn’t have the money for the doctor
bills and our house. Only a very costly surgery could save him now and it was
looking like there was no-one to loan them the money. She heard Daddy say to
her tearful Mother with whispered desperation, “Only a miracle can save him
now.”
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 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. 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 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 the same annoyed tone. “He’s reall, 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 said, softening 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 a 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 audibly. “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 brother.” 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 I have the kind of miracle you need.”
That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon,
specializing in neuro-surgery. 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 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.