Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS (Don't write about the song) (04/16/15)
TITLE: Don't be Disheartned
By Rachel Varghese
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The year was 2008 and it was the day before Thanksgiving and I was glad that my daughter reached home from Texas earlier than I expected. We finished making dinner and waited for my son and husband to come home. I was talking to her of the heavy loss in our business and all the problems that we went through because of that. We had to rent our nice house next to the lake in South Carolina and come back to Maryland and stay in this single bedroom apartment. Because I went to South Carolina I had lost a good job in a prestigious law firm in Washington, D.C and now I was just doing a small part-time job, blah, blah, blah and all the troubles that we were going through. I was not a complainer but now I thought I was walking around with this bundle of troubles on my head. My daughter was my best friend and she lent a sympathetic ear to all my woes and said, “Mom these things would seem nothing when something bigger happens.” Little did I realize how dramatically that would happen in no time.
Ruth was anxious to see her father and older brother who had not come home though it was way past their working hours. We both were very worried and she kept calling her brother’s cell phone in vain. After sometime her cell phone rang and a police officer called to tell that my son had met with a motorcycle accident and only gave the details of the hospital where he was taken to, and nothing else. My daughter called her father and he told that he was on the way home and had got the same information from the police officer.
I told Ruth to call her uncles and I called the Pastor and informed him. He told me to prepare for the worst as Motorcycle accidents were usually fatal, which was of no comfort to me. I just remembered that another boy who was older than my son and had the same first name as his had passed away in a motorcycle accident a few weeks ago, and the same pastor had conducted his funeral. I burst into another round of tears when I thought of that.
We rushed to the hospital as soon as my husband came. We asked the receptionist if she knew anything about the accident case. She said that she cannot say anything and we had to wait for the doctor to come and talk to us.
Sitting in the in the general waiting room I lost count of time and was extremely miserable. Finally a doctor with a solemn face came and called us for a meeting in a private room. My daughter looked at me and fearing the worst wept uncontrollably and I hugged her and cried with her. Finally, the doctor came in and told us that my son was in a critical condition. He was in a coma; one lung had collapsed and they are doing the best for him and he cannot tell anything more than that.
We were allowed to go into the room two at a time and visit with him for a few minutes. What a sight met my eyes when I went into the room, swollen, bruised face, closed eyes and breathing through a tube! I touched his hand and breathed a prayer, “Lord this child you gave me is more precious than all the worldly things that I lost. Please save his body and soul.”
Day and night we sat in the waiting room outside the intensive care and made mini trips to his bedside and pleaded with God. Lot of people came and prayed for him. After three days he came out of the coma, and his sister was so glad that she could talk to him before she left to Texas. After staying in the hospital for two weeks he came home! It was nothing short of a miracle that he is alive the doctor told us. I decided never to place my troubles on a balance with God’s grace on the other side, because nothing can ever match it.
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