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

[Paul Smith]

Sorry folks, but the email address given should have ended in .org, not 
.com.  Paul
Forwarded message:

From: Paul Smith via Faith-Talk <faith-talk at nfbnet.org>
to: angelsonges at groups.io
Cc: Paul Smith <paulsmith at samobile.net>
Subject: [Faith-talk] {Spam?} A Sister for Michael
Reply-To: "Faith-talk,
 for the discussion of faith and religion" <faith-talk at nfbnet.org>
Date: Wed, 17 Aug 2016 13:17:57 -0400

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

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