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Katie Reinmann June 9th, 2009

The Miracle

I remember my mom telling me a story when I was a little kid. It wasn't any ordinary story;it was rather extravagent. I would categorize it as a miracle. This miracle happened in Italy, and its witness was my great-great grandmother.

My great-great grandmother had 13 kids. She loved and adored all of them, that is, until they died from Cancer, except one. Her name was Rose. She called Rose her miralce child, because all of her other children get affected with the disease, but she did not get diagnosed with the disease. She thought it was pure luck. She prayed to God every night that he would keep her alive, for she was very precious to her. One day, Rose got sick. She became worried that she would relive her worst fear, and memories, again. She waited, thinking maybe it wasn't cancer, that it would just pass. Maybe she had the common cold. One day, her daughter woke up from bed, and had a huge chunk of hair in her hand. Her mother cried, and raced to the hopital to start treatment. She had a feeling her daughter was sick, but did not want to admit it. Days passed, and she got worse and worse. Her mother lost her faith in God, and felt mad at him for punishing her in such a gruesome way when she did nthing to deserve it. The doctors said Rose only had a few more days to live, for the cancer spread throughout her body. They stopped treatment, and her mother, numb with pain, sat with her daughter, and soothed her, grasping the mmoments she had left with her. It seemed like seconds. A few days passed. Her daughter could not talk, and she could barely lift her eyelids; she had no strength left. She saw her take one last breath, which turned into her last. Her mother, helpless, didn't know what to do, s o she prayed on her rosary beads through the intercession of St. Theresa, for she was her favorite saint. She prayed that she would heal her daughter, for if she did, she would live the rest of her days abundanty and full of gratitude towards Jesus and make his name known. Then, she felt a warm light spread throughout her face. She felt an instant calm and soothing sensation spread througout her exhausted body, and smelled roses. She looked up and saw the face of St. Theresa smiling down at her, giving a reassuring smile that everything will be okay. Then she turned to her daughter, lying helpless on the hospital bed. She reached out her hands and concentrated on her, never looking away. Suddenly, the glow from St. Theresa spread like rapid fire to her Rose, and in an instant she was gone. The room turned back the same way it was before. Dull and lifeless. She looked at her daughter, still dead, as pale as a corpse. There was a rose lying on her stomache, perfect, bllod red, with water crested on its edges. She knelt on her knees, and weeped for the loss of her last child. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see the face of her daughter, and saw that her skin was back to normal, and she was smiling. She looked up and thanked St. Theresa and God. From that day foreward, she gained back her belief in God, and it grew even stronger. She never gave up her promise to God and spread the word of Jesus to her friends, telling them her story, and the encounter she had with St. Theresa. She learned that through God, even the impossible is possible.