A miracle of $1.

10
Tess was a precocious eight year old when she heard her Mom and Dad talking about her little brother, Andrew. All she knew was that he was very sick and they were completely out of money. They were moving to an apartment complex next month because Daddy didn't have the money for the doctor bills and our house. Only a very costly surgery could save him now and it was looking like there was no-one to loan them the money. She heard Daddy say to her tearful Mother with whispered desperation, "Only a miracle can save him now." Tess went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door. She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it! "And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. "I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply to his question. "Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. "He's really, really sick... and I want to buy a miracle." "I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist. "His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?" "We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you," the pharmacist said, softening a little. "Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs." The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does you brother need?" "I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up. "I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money." "How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago. "One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly. "And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to. "Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven cents - the exact price of a miracle for little brothers." He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said, "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the kind of miracle you need." That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specialising in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well. Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. "That surgery," her Mom whispered. "was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?" Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost... one dollar and eleven cents ...... plus the faith of a little child. A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law......

Attitude
Jerry is the manager of a restaurant in America. He is always in a good mood and always has something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would always reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!" Many of the waiters at his restaurant quit their jobs when he changed jobs so they could follow him around from restaurant to restaurant. The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was always there, telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation. Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and asked him, "I don't get it! No one can be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?" Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, I have two choices today. I can choose to be in a good mood or I can choose to be in a bad mood I always choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from it. I always choose to learn from it. Everytime someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I always choose the positive side of life." "But it's not always that easy," I protested.

"Yes, it is," Jerry said "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice.You choose how you react to situations You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. It's your choice how you live your life." Several years later, I heard that Jerry accidentally did something you are never supposed to do in the restaurant business: left the back door of his restaurant open one morning and was robbed by three armed men. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found quickly and rushed to the hospital. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released fromthe hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body. I saw Jerry aboutsix months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Want to see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the robbery took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then, after they shot me, as I lay on the floor, Iremembered that I had twochoices: I could choose to live or choose to die. I chose to live." "Weren't you scared?" I asked. Jerry continued, "The paramedics were great. They kept telling me. I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the Emergency Room and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read 'He's a dead man.' I knew I need to take action." "What did you do?" I asked. "Well, there was a big nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to anything." 'Yes,' I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, 'Bullets!' Over their laughter, I told them, 'I am choosing to live. Please operate on me as if I am alive, not dead'." Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned

from him that every day you have the choice to either enjoy your life or to hate it. The only thing that is truly yours that no one can control or take from you is your attitude, so if you can take care of that, everything else in life becomes much easier.

Message Received
By Michele Wallace Campanelli I knew the answer before he even asked. My boyfriend of two years dropped down on one knee, pulled out a velvet, heart-shaped box, and asked, "Will you marry me?" Louis looked so adorable. Such a large, strong man suddenly turned so vulnerable. I couldn't have found a better mate, so gorgeous, caring and easygoing. He had become my best friend, and I knew in my heart that I loved him. "Yes," I answered. A wave of relief washed over his face, then a huge, boyish smile that preceded a passionate kiss. "Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world!" That week, we set the date for August 8 of the following year, and I started to pick out cards for our engagement announcement - and the memories immediately flooded back. This wasn't the first time I had planned a wedding. Five years ago, Jono, my first fianc, had died unexpectedly only six months prior to our wedding date. Pain paralyzed my heart as unfinished grief and longing reared up. I realized that planning another wedding brought all my feelings to the surface. I wondered if I'd ever heal from that loss. I thought I had gotten over losing him. Because I was so young - only twenty-three years old - when Jono died, family and friends expected I would move on and date others, which I had...but marriage? As the months passed, I began to ponder whether Jono, the angel, felt anger toward me for wanting to marry someone else. After all, I had once promised to be his one and only. The next morning, I found myself praying. Dear God, tell Jono that I know I said I would be his wife. But since you needed him, I've fallen in love with a beautiful man who treats me wonderfully. I'm very happy, yet afraid that Jono might be mad that I am going to have to break my word. Please have him forgive me. Tell him I'm sorry, and that I hope he will send me a sign so I know he approves. Just then, a knock on the door startled me. I jumped, almost expecting Jono to be there. Louis came in. "Are you ready?" "For?" I wondered. "We've got premarital counseling today. Remember the pastor changed it to this morning." "Oh, that's right!" Quickly I got ready, and we decided to take my car since it was faster than his. "Are you okay?" Louis asked as he started the engine. "Uh-huh," I nodded halfheartedly. "You still want to marry me, don't you?" I turned to him knowing I couldn't let this man out of my life. If only Louis knew how much I really did love him. In that moment, I knew without a doubt that I was willing and ready to break a solemn vow I'd once made to someone else, to move forward and marry Louis. "Yes," I replied. Louis stopped the car in the church's parking lot, stepped out and came around to my side to let me out. "Did you see my wallet anywhere?" He suddenly began patting his pockets. "Maybe it's underneath the seat."

Louis went back to the driver's side as I walked around the car to help him search. He found his wallet under the seat, but something else caught his eye. He reached farther back and pulled out a shiny gold object. "What's this?" My hands flew to my face. I had lost that "Xs and Os" gold bracelet six years ago. It was my birthday present from Jono, given to me the last day he told me how much he loved me. I had searched my car many times looking for this special bracelet and had given up hope of ever finding it. "Wow, this is beautiful," Louis said, impressed. With some hesitation, I explained who had given me the bracelet so many years before. For a moment, Louis just stared at the piece shimmering in the sun. Then he took my hand and tenderly fastened Jono's bracelet on my wrist. "You don't mind my wearing it?" I asked. "No," he replied. "Now you can think of it as a present from both of us." Years ago, I had searched this car for days trying to find that bracelet with its message of "hugs and kisses" from my first love. As I watched it shine on my wrist, I knew my prayer to hear from Jono had been answered. I soaked in this divine moment and the symbolism attached to it now that the bracelet, Jono, Louis and I were all brought together at our church. Louis took my hand and we began to walk into the church. Next to the brass door handle was a plaque that had the complete Bible scripture "Love bears all things" engraved. Louis opened the door for me, and I took one last look at the plaque. As we walked through the archway, my eyes focused on the next words, "Love is not jealous."