[Faith-talk] {Spam?} A Sister for Michael

[Paul Smith]

Today's story takes me back to my childhood, in fact to perhaps my 
earliest memory.  I don't know how old I was, but somewhere between 
when I was born and my ability to know things, I just knew that I had 
to have a little sister.  Unfortunately I had two brothers, but I still 
had that intense desire.  Not long ago I was listening to an album 
containing songs by the late Bradley Kincaid, and the following came to 
my ears, perhaps the earliest song I can remember:

Some day, someone will come for you, you, you;
Someday someone will come whose smile is true.

That's all I can remember of the song.  Maybe some of you who are into 
early country music can remember that obviously Victorian-era number.

But let's forget that.  Here is the story about a sister for Michael.

Like any good mother, when Karen found out that another baby was on the 
way, she did what she could to help her 3-year-old son, Michael, 
prepare for a new sibling.

They found out that the new baby was going to be a girl, and day after 
day, night after night, Michael sang to his little sister in Mommy's 
tummy.  He was building a bond of love with his little sister before he 
even met her.

The pregnancy progressed normally for Karen, an active member of the 
Panther Creek United Methodist Church in Morristown, Tennessee.

In time, the labor pains came.  Soon it was every five minutes, every 
three, every minute.  But serious complications arose during delivery 
and Karen found herself in hours of labor.  Would a C-section be 
required? Finally, after a long struggle, Michael's little sister was 
born.  But she was in very serious condition.

With a siren howling in the night, the ambulance rushed the infant to 
the neonatal intensive care unit at St. Mary's Hospital, Knoxville, Tennessee.

The days inched by.  The little girl got worse.  The pediatric 
specialist regretfully had to tell the parents, "There is very little 
hope.  Be prepared for the worst."

Karen and her husband contacted a local cemetery about a burial plot.  
They had fixed up a special room in their home for the new baby, but 
now they found themselves having to plan for a funeral.

Michael, however, kept begging his parents to let him see his sister.  
"I want to sing to her," he kept saying.  Week two in intensive care 
looked as if a funeral would come before the week was over.

Michael kept nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are never 
allowed in the Intensive Care.  Karen made up her mind, though.  She 
would take Michael whether they liked it or not! If he didn't see his 
sister right then, he may never see her alive.

She dressed him in an oversized scrub suit and marched him into ICU.  
He looked like a walking laundry basket, but the head nurse recognized 
him as a child and bellowed "Get that kid out of here now! No children 
are allowed!" The mother rose up strong in Karen, and the usually 
mild-mannered lady glared steel-eyed into the head nurse's face, her 
lips a firm line.

"He is not leaving until he sings to his sister!" Karen towed Michael 
to his sister's bedside.  He gazed at the tiny infant losing the battle 
to live.  After a moment, he began to sing.  In the pure hearted voice 
of a 3-year-old Michael sang:  "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, 
you make me happy when skies are gray."

Instantly the baby girl seemed to respond.  Her pulse rate began to 
calm down and become steady.  "Keep on singing, Michael," encouraged 
Karen with tears in her eyes.  "You never know, dear, how much I love 
you.  Please don't take my sunshine away."

As Michael sang to his sister, the baby's ragged, strained breathing 
became as smooth as a kitten's purr.  "Keep on singing, sweetheart!!"

"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my 
hands ..." Michael's little sister began to relax as rest, healing 
rest, seemed to sweep over her.

"Keep on singing, Michael." Tears had now conquered the face of the 
bossy head nurse.  Karen glowed.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.  Please don't take my sunshine away."

The next day, the very next day, the little girl was well enough to go home!

"Women's Day Magazine" called it "The miracle of a brother's song." The 
medical staff just called it a miracle.  Karen called it a miracle of 
God's love!

Never give up on the people you love.  Love is so incredibly powerful.

The story that you just read or listened to will probably be either the 
second or third story I'll be reading on my radio show Friday from noon 
to 1 PM eastern time.  If the Spirit moves and you're not too busy, 
tune in Friday at the above time to
http://www.radioreadingnetwork.com
and click on where it says "listeners" (without the quote marks.  In 
speaking to my blind friend Charles earlier today, I mentioned that at 
least the first five readings will be devoted to little children, and 
the reaction I received was an affirmative one.  I do hope that you 
enjoyed this story.

And that will do it for today.  Until tomorrow when, Lord willing 
another story will be posted, may the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob 
just keep us safe, individually and collectively, in these last days in 
which we live.  Your Christian friend and brother, Paul