Title: "An Angels Miracle"
Genre: Family/SpiritualAuthor: Barbara Watkins
There was a time when my grandma came to visit my brother's and me several times a week but recently the visits stopped. It didn't do any good to talk to momma about grandma; in fact, just the mere mention of grandma upset her. Lately it seemed as though momma would rather be anywhere else but here, that is to say, anywhere else but with us.
My little brother's Corey and Blayne skip around the pews as though they were at the playground. A two-year age difference might not mean a whole lot to most people but to me it is a big difference. One more year and I'll be thirteen, a teenager, why three years more and I'll be able to drive. Two years older than my brother Blayne, I'm a lifetime older than my little squirt of a brother Corey, or so that's the way I see it. Momma says when pastor Kinsey preaches the word of the Lord her heart feels less empty. All I know is that every Sunday morning I'm responsible for trying to keep my little brother's out of mischief so momma can concentrate on Pastor Kinsey's speech, or as momma says ‘The Lords word.' The one thing I could always look forward to was when that hour was up and we could head home, home to the smell of sweet cornbread, fried potatoes, and homemade dumplings. Grandma always said she felt closer to the Lord when she was rolling those dumplings and slicing those potatoes than she ever had sitting amongst those holier than thou hypocrites - just one opinion she and momma often disagreed on, there were many more.
Grandma had been our comfort blanket two years ago when daddy died. Two weeks after he passed momma locked herself in her room, only to venture out when grandma put her foot down. She demanded momma take control of her life or else.
"Vickie Lynn Morgan, this better be the last time I come over here and find these children haven't had their breakfast. Now you pull yourself up out of that bed and open this door!"
My little brother's and me kept our distance by hiding behind our bedroom door, all the while trying to muster up enough courage to peak around the corner. Suddenly, if from out of nowhere, a sound of thunder erupted as momma's door opened up and slammed against the bedroom wall.
"How can you talk to me like that when I've lost my husband and your grandchildren have lost their father! You of all people should know what I'm going through!"
"Yes my darling I remember well when we lost your father." Grandma reached out and took momma by the hand. "I also remember doing everything I could to love and comfort you, to be your protector, the very thing your own children need from you now."
From that moment on everything changed. Grandma gave us our momma back; the momma that my brother's and me had known before our daddy's death. She performed a miracle. Not the kind of miracles pastor Kinsey preaches about on Sunday, but it was as close of a miracle as I had ever seen. I only wish Pastor Kinsey could make my heart feel less empty. Who will perform the miracle now? Who will bring back our momma to us this time?
While momma sat on the church bench sobbing, I took my little brother's by the hand and led them up to the casket. One by one, we placed a rose on grandma's chest just as we had done on my daddy's two years before. I then did something I had never done before. I prayed for a miracle just like I've heard Pastor Kinsey talk about on Sunday, a miracle to bring back my grandma, to somehow turn back time. I thought if there were a God and he could do all the things Pastor Kinsey said he could do, if I prayed hard enough, somehow, my prayer would be answered.
Two weeks I took care of my little brothers, preparing their breakfast, making sure they had what they needed while momma stayed locked behind her bedroom door. Two weeks every night, I prayed for my miracle to happen.
After tucking my younger brother's in bed, I walked past my momma's bedroom door and paused for a moment. I wanted so much for her to tell me that everything would be okay. I wanted her to make my heart stop hurting.
I turned down my bed covers, kneeled, and began to pray.
Dear Heavenly Father I have prayed every night asking for a miracle, are you there? Pastor Kinsey
The next morning I awoke to the sweet smell of maple syrup and the sound of bacon sizzling in a pan. When I walked into the kitchen, I saw my little brother's chowing down breakfast and my momma standing over the stove. As I stood in disbelief, my momma turned to me, smiled and said, "Last night I had a beautiful dream. You want to know what it was I dreamed?"
I couldn't get it out fast enough when my little brother Corey read my mind. "Yes mama, please tell us what it was you dreamed!"
"I dreamed I was with your grandma in a glorious garden filled with magnificent flowers of every kind and color. And guess who was standing next to her?"
"Who momma, who?" My brother Blayne asked.
"Your daddy Jack and your grandpa Ollie and they were surrounded by a glorious ray of light."
"What happened next, what did they say?" I said eagerly awaiting her reply.
"Well, it wasn't as though I heard them speak exactly, it was more like a overwhelming feeling I got of peace and joy in their presence, kinda like Christmas time - you know what I mean?"
I watched my momma's eyes light up as she spoke of this wondrous dream and wondered. Did the Lord hear and answer my prayer? I thought surly he must have.
"Anyway children, toward the end of my dream I did hear your grandma say, "Now go back and take care of my little angels, love them and be their protector."
As momma slid my pancakes into my plate, she leaned over and whispered in my ear.
"And Joseph, grandma had a special message she wanted me to deliver just to you. She said to tell you worry no more my angel, for you deserve every miracle God has to offer, and your heart will never be empty because you will always carry the love she has for you within."
It's been forty years since that prayer was answered and many more have proceeded that one. It still gives me goose bumps when I tell this story to my grandchildren. So, when they ask me, "Why doesn't God answer my prayers?" I tell them God answers every prayer in the form of a miracle, and if you believe - your miracle will be answered.
Copyright 2013@Barbara Watkins