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 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 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 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
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 you 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 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 I have the kind of miracle you
need.”
That well
dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specialising 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.
Claimed
to be a true story
Author Unknown
Submitted by Sumit
Author Unknown
Submitted by Sumit
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