“I hate you, I hate you,” exclaimed the woman in a muffled cry. The young woman, hunched over in agony, continually rocked back and forth uncontrollably in an old sofa nestled beside a stand which harbored a dimly lit lamp in the hospital prayer room.
Mary unsuccessfully tried to wipe her tears. She looked up to see a wooden plaque with the phrase “God answers prayer," carved into it. With a sarcastic laugh, Mary bellows “Yeah, You really answer my prayers, huh? I’ve been praying non stop for the last two months and nothing – nothing has came from it.”
Mary kept glaring at the wooden plaque. “Lies, lies… it’s nothing but lies!” The distressed woman shot off of the sofa and ripped the plaque off the wall. Strangling it, she screamed, “You say You’ll hear my cries, but where are You? Why can’t You hear me and if you really loved me why did You kill my son?” She then clutched the plaque in one hand and launched it towards the lone lamp expelling the light instantly. She fell to her knees and rolled into the fetal position losing all bodily control rocking back and forth wanting the pain to cease.
Reacting to the disturbance, several hospital staff barged in the room. They carefully sat her up on the sofa. The eldest doctor sat next to her trying to console her. His experience and wisdom was evident in his wrinkled face and gray hair but nothing prepared him for this. “Miss Thompson, I know this is difficult for you. However, you do have the opportunity to keep other mothers from experiencing this anguish. We have reason to suspect that your son, Jamie, can save the lives of several children by donating his organs. I know this is the worse time to ask you, but every minute counts for these kids.” The Doctor sighed in preparation and asked, “Mary, will you donate Jamie’s organs?”
Mary remembered how Jamie would laugh a squeal in excitement during bath time and the softness of his skin while she lovingly dried him off. She could smell the freshness of baby scent as she held him in her arms, rocking him back and forth sighing softly allowing a mother’s breath to kiss his entire face. Only she knew how to hamper his soft cries and comfort his fears.
“Did you hear my question, Mary?”
Mary remained motionless, thinking “Of course I heard the question, but what am I supposed to do? It’s my Jamie. He’s been through enough, already. Can’t you let him rest in Peace! I mean, why couldn’t another child have died to save mine? Why did it have to be my Jamie? ...What am I saying? How could I be so wicked?” Mary began to feel all of her frustration and anger rushing through her at once. She couldn’t control it. She had to let go. “Aaahhhh!” she wailed as the dam broke gushing a steady outburst of tears and cries.
The sight was even too unbearable for the veteran doctor. “Mary, this decision would be overwhelming for anyone. We’ll let Jamie rest in peace now,” said the doctor.
Just as the Doctor stood up to take the first step to leave, Mary stopped crying long enough to calmly say “No…please donate Jamie’s organs. Don’t let another mother go through this.” The doctor nodded his head and respectfully left the room.
Mary laid her head on the arm of the sofa and curled up into a ball. “Alright, God, I give him back to You.” For the first time in months, Mary began to feel calmness as a wave of peace saturated her body. She could feel God pick her up in His arms and hold her close to His chest. His heart thumped in perfect rhythm to the song that he was humming.
“God, I must be dreaming ‘cause I see Jamie. He’s alive and is standing by a man. Jamie is looking up at him, smiling and is now taking the man’s badly scarred hand. The man’s picking him up and is putting him up on his shoulders. Jaime just giggles and smiles. Oh, they look so happy together!”
“Yes, our children do play well together, don’t they?” He just continued to rock her back and forth saying “I understand, Mary. I too lost my son, but only for a short season. So don’t you worry about anything my child, I got everything under control.”
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