Short Stories

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“Mama, I’m scared.” Her big brown eyes were dark against the white hospital walls.

“I know, Mandy.” I shifted on the bed and took her small hand, surprised that mine was even colder than hers. “But we prayed that God would guide the doctor’s hands while he does my operation, remember? And that He would hold you and me tightly in His hands?” Mandy nodded slowly.

“Grandma and Grandpa will be here tonight!” I reminded her. “They are flying here right now.” The first glimmer of a smile appeared on her face.

I heard voices in the hall and glanced toward the door. Soon the nurse would be coming to take me out for the surgery.

Suddenly Mandy grasped me, her voice urgent. “But I haven’t finished memorizing the verse, yet!”

“Which verse, honey?”

“The one about God covering us with His wings--like the birdie who built her nest on the front porch sits on her babies to keep them warm and safe.”

“Psalm 91.” I smiled and softly began quoting parts of it. The cadence of the King James words filled the room and we could feel God’s presence filling the tiny space. “‘He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. He shall cover thee with His feathers and under His wings shalt thou trust: . . .Thou shalt not be afraid. . .For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.’ God says, ‘He shall call upon Me and I will answer him.’”

This time Mandy’s smile lit her whole face. “He shall cover thee with His feathers and--under--”

“His wings shalt thou trust.”

She repeated it again. “I think I can remember that, now,” she whispered.

The nurse came in then and announced that it was time. Mandy squeezed my hand. “I love you, Mama!”

“I love you, Mandy.”

I watched as another nurse took Mandy’s hand and led her from the room. She paused in the doorway and blew me a kiss. “Don’t forget, Mama, you’re covered in feathers!”

I laughed out loud and the nurse looked with puzzlement after my daughter. Shrugging, she turned to me. “Are you ready?” she asked as she raised the rail on my hospital bed.

“I’m ready,” I told her confidently. “After all, I’m covered with feathers!”


© 2005 Amy Michelle Wiley

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