Miracle Love

Is the title of today's inspirational message

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.
The new baby was going be a girl, and day after
day, night after night, Michael sang to his 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 the Creek United Methodist
Church in Morristown, Tennessee, USA.
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.
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
pediatrician had to tell the parents there was 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 house for their new baby 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 Intensive Care.
Karen decided to 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.
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 right
into the head nurse’s eyes, her lips a firm line, “He
is not leaving until he sings to his sister.”
Then Karen towed Michael to his sister’s bedside.
He gazed at the tiny infant losing the battle to live.
After a moment, he began tossing. 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. The
pulse rate began to calm down and became
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 arms”.
Michael’s little sister began to relax as rest,
healing rest, seemed to sweep over her. “Keep
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.