Faith of a little child

[Guest guest]

Sairam!I read this nice story in beliefnet and thought of sharing with you all. Sally

was only eight years old when she heard Mommy and Daddy talking about

her little brother, Georgi. He was very sick and they had done

everything they could afford to save his life. Only a very expensive

surgery could help him now . . . and that was out of the financial

question. She heard Daddy say it with a whispered desperation, "Only a

miracle can save him now."

Sally went to her bedroom and pulled her piggy bank from its

hiding place in the closet. She shook all the change out on the floor

and counted it carefully. Three times. The total had to be exactly

perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Tying the coins up in a

cold-weather-kerchief, she slipped out of the apartment and made her

way to the corner drug store.

She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her attention.

.. . but he was too busy talking to another man to be bothered by an

eight-year-old. Sally twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. She

cleared her throat. No good. Finally she took a quarter from its hiding

place and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!

 

 

 

 

 

 

"And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. "Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Sally answered

back in the same annoyed tone. "He's sick . . . and I want to buy a

miracle."

"I beg your pardon," said the pharmacist.

"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 can't help you."

"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. Just tell me how much it costs."

The well-dressed man stooped down and asked, "What kind of a miracle does you brother need?"

"I don't know," Sally answered. A tear started down her cheek.

"I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But

my folks can't pay for it . . . so I have my money.

"How much do you have?" asked the well-dressed man.

"A dollar and eleven cents," Sally answered proudly. "And it's all the money I have in the world."

"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the well-dressed man. A

dollar and eleven cents . . . the exact price of a miracle to save a

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."

That well-dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, renowned

surgeon, specializing in solving Georgi's malady. The operation was

completed without charge and it wasn't long until Georgi was home again

and doing well. Mommy and Daddy were happily talking about the chain of

events that had led them to this place.

"That surgery," Mommy whispered. "It's like a miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?

Sally smiled to herself. She knew exactly how much a miracle

cost... one dollar and eleven cents... plus the faith of a little child.