The Drawing of a Miracle

"You know what is this, dad?" Amnious looked at me, putting her drawing on my desk. I left my book aside and moved my focus on her drawing. For a moment, I could only see bright colors, blue, yellow, orange, green, and white but in the middle, there were darker colors that made you think that they were all dark black but which were lighter in the sun's light. There was also an unrecognizable figure in the middle which left me wandering what it was.  

"I have no idea what this is, sweetheart" She looked at me and then began explaining her drawing to me, trying to find the right words to describe to me what only her eyes could see and understand. 

"This is a miracle." I looked once again at her drawing. To be honest, I have never imagined what a miracle looked like. If I were to portray it, miracles were very bright. However, in the middle of her drawing, some very dusky colors didn't portray miracles as I thought they were back then- bright and forever happy. 

"A miracle? Then, why are those darker colors in the miracle?" Amnious stared at her drawing for a couple of seconds then answered my curious question. 

"A miracle falls over people who really need it, that is why there's this little human here. The darker colors are here because sometimes a miracle can feel like another heavy rock that you have to carry that is actually a diamond. Or, it may feel like that, for the people who prey for a miracle to save them, that may feel like they are being punished by the universe without knowing that a miracle's actually coming their way. Miracles are just unexpected but needed events that don't have to be given with a pen, you just need to have the hope and the faith to make it happen."  

Endless nights I reflected on my daughter's description of a miracle. I, myself, was the one who sent miracles for the ones who needed them. I've been the miracle giver for two thousand years now and nothing had ever made me wonder more about miracles before. Well, I didn't understand her drawing until I got to see with my own two eyes what is like waiting for a miracle. 

I am a Thumasionert or a miracle giver, every day I receive thousands of letters with what people need. These letters aren't written by the people themselves. Divinity letters are written from what they pray for, from what they really need, and from what they wish would happen that would have a positive effect on their lives. The Universe hears these prayers and writes letters with what the certain person needs. Now, you may say that I give people exactly what they want straight forward but that is not really what happens. When the letter lands in my office, I have to read it. The letters describe the people with their needs,past and future goals. My great-grandpa used to say that miracles are like signs, not everybody notices them. You may have walked past your miracle ten times but still haven't noticed it the eleventh time. I can't just give a miracle to everybody and even if I do so, I can't put the miracle in your backpack. The person has to reach for the miracle because even a miracle can lose its magic if it is not taken advantage of the right way. God said: "He that gapes until he be fed, well may gape until he be dead" A miracle can be considered a second chance to the people that didn't do the best things in their life. I am the one who decides if that person needs the miracle or not. If that person does then I send it to them. 

One day, when the Moon aligned with the Sun and the stars were in between shifts, I was called urgently to the office. An urgent letter fell from the window and that wasn't a good sign. Divinity letters aren't supposed to fall because the hope in those letters, brought from prayers, has to keep the faith alive and up in the air, fighting with the gravity for what they are hoping for. I didn't waste any time and opened the letter, sitting down in my bulky chair held by clouds. On that certain day, thousands of letters were waiting to be opened but the one that fell was a loud call for help. With the silver and sharp knife, I ripped the envelope open and took the letter out. My eyes finished the entire letter in less than fifty seconds and, for once in so many years, a divinity letter touched my heart so much that it made my eyes watery.  

The letter was from a mother, a very young mother, with a little girl named Tesha. Tesha was an adorable child, that didn't get the life that she deserved. She lived in a single-parent family and her mother struggled a lot with money, drowning herself in credits and having a bad relationship with Tesha's father. Despite all the problems the two had, Tesha, suddenly, started feeling worse, having convulsions, terrible head pains, vision changes, and at the same time, shortness of breath, bloody coughs, loss of appetite, and a lot more. Her mother, Nakia, brought her to doctors who gave her a diagnosis and a lot of expensive medication to give her daughter daily, despite her financial status that couldn't afford to pay for all of the expensive medication. Sadly, the doctors gave the wrong diagnosis, and the expensive medication destroyed Tesha's health, making her unable to leave the hospital, being bed-bound under her mother's constant supervision and relying on certain devices that helped her breathe and being sedated most of the time because her head pain was unbearable. She had no chance to be operated on, not only because of the money but because she didn't have the operations at the right time and although she had already stopped the medication it remained in her body making her health worse and worse with every day that passed. 

The doctors were waiting for her to finally pass away, giving Nakia countless apologies and empathy. Her mother kept on praying, every single day for a miracle that could bring her daughter back to the energic kid that she used to be before her health problems came into the background. Multiple letters were sent with her prayers and in each and every one of them she only wanted her girl to be healthy. She didn't want money, she didn't want love, she didn't want expensive things, the only thing she wanted was for her baby to be healthy. 

However, this letter was her last call for help, it was the last chance for me to give her a miracle before her daughter would pass away. The reason why her letter fell was that it was the last drop of hope Nakia had for a miracle to light up Tesha's life. 

For a moment, I felt terrible that I didn't read her letters ahead of time but every single second new letters like this hit my desk about sick children waiting for a miracle, and is just impossible to get thru all of them. I looked up from the letter, rushing to the list of names of people who urgently needed a miracle. Once I spotted Tesha's name, I put the black inked pen right next to her name, sending a miracle with the power the pen's ink had yet.... the pen wasn't writing. It had no ink in it and without the pen nor the ink I couldn't send the miracle. I depended on that pen because, without it, I didn't think I had any powers. Panic flushed thru out my body. The black-inked pen was an inheritance from the first person in my ancestry that had the power to send a miracle. 

Tesha was holding on to this miracle and I wasn't going to let her down. For the very first time in history, I was the first one to declare code sparkle. Birds, angels, Greek gods, and animals, came there to open the door to The Other World, where humans were living in. I left my family behind, my children, and my wife to save another family. Touching the cross necklace I had, I felt that I was doing the right thing and that God was alright with my decision to save a little girl's life even if, without the pen, I didn't think I could send the miracle. 

I was turned into a butterfly, guided by the wind, by the waters, and by the stars in the sky only to get to my destination which was Tesha's hospital room. My wings flew during rain, snow, thunderstorm, fog, and tornados. My invisible arrival in Tesha's room tore my heart apart. The eyes on my face laid on Tesha's weakened body. I couldn't see her face. She had a tube inserted in her mouth that covered most part of her face but I knew she was a lovely girl. Nakia was sitting on her knees next to her daughter's bed, holding her hand like she was the only one who had the power to save her. Her mother was in tears, crying silently while whispering prayers for her daughter and when she wasn't praying, she was talking to her daughter, telling her that mommy loved her and that she was never going to leave her alone, talking under the tears which made her almost incapable of speaking. Her mother, her sweet lovely mother, was beginning for a miracle, a miracle that she has been waiting and asking for years now. She was waiting for a miracle and while she was waiting for her miracle to happen, she was falling more and more into little hopeless pieces. 

I got closer to the little girl's bed, making all the crosses and the pictures with God fall off the side table, hitting the ground. One thing I didn't notice was that a newspaper fell wide open from the side table too. Nobody could see me even if I was feeling like Nakia could feel my presence. She slowly got up, with her big eyes looking at the mess on the carpet. The devices monitoring Tesha's heartbeat began alarming that something was wrong. Nakia glimpsed at the newspaper holding a cross in her hand, remarking a three-word sentence- Keep on hoping 

Doctors rushed thru the door, ready to help the little girl from losing her battle for life when the light suddenly turned off, leaving all of us in the darkness of the hospital room. Nakia hugged her daughter immediately, telling her that she was the only person she will love forever and imploring her not to leave her. At that moment, I put my hands on Tesha's forehead. The miracle maker, I, begged and prayed to God to send a miracle and make it happen, saving this poor girl even if I didn't use the pen. The only thing I could use was my belief and hope in God. Seconds passed, and with tears in my eyes, I leaned on the wall, still with my hand on Tesha's forehead using all the power within myself to make the miracle happen. With my eyes closed, I kept on hoping. Everything stopped for a minute until... 

The light lit up again and not only the light lit up. Tesha opened her eyes. The doctors were speechless. Tesha got up, throwing the tube away from her mouth, fell into her mother's open arms. All the eyes in the room had tears waiting to be drained. I looked down at my hands. Who did that? I was the miracle maker only with the pen and I just made the miracle happen without it. Glimpsing at both the mother and the daughter for the last time, in my heart I felt like I accomplished my mission. It was time to return to The World. 

Back to this day, I analyze my daughter's drawing of a miracle, holding her soft hand. The power was laying in me all along and I never knew that. The pen and the ink were useless, all the miracle makers had the power in themselves. I returned to my astonishing daughter, Amnious, and to what she told me about miracles. 

"You know what, Amni?" She stopped playing with her doll and waited for me to continue what I wanted to say. The pen was sitting on the table. Was that the sign for me to notice and to behold the fact that the miracles were living inside of myself already? Did I need the pen to stop working so that I could see with my eyes how powerful I was? Do we need for things to stop working to actually see the reality because when things stop working, everybody opens their eyes wider, looking for the truth to find a solution?  

"You were right, you don't need ink to make a miracle happen, you just need to have enough hope and faith to make it happen, and waiting for a miracle can feel like a punishment despite of the fact that the miracle is right next to you. Waiting on a miracle is tough but maybe the miracle is already in yourself..."