Tess was a precocious eight-year-old girl 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’s 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 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 your 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.”
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