I am in love with the small miracle, that moment in time when the curtain parts and the stage is clear and something of non-monumental importance occurs. I often forget the possibility exists. I'm busy. So busy. The ripples in the pond are there, but I've taken myself off on another trip.
The other day, a plump robin sat atop the branches of a small weeping cherry tree in my yard. The cherry tree itself is a miracle. Just a month or so ago, it was topped with a cap of snow! Now, it has an array of tiny pink blossoms dangling off the tips of its branches. And those buds...will be gone in another week.
But the robin? Well, I pretty much knew what she was up to. She was scoping out her space and trying to figure out where she'd build her nest this year. When I came home yesterday, I startled her. Her nest was built above the light by the walkway. Soon, a couple little heads with huge, gaping beaks will pop out on this scene. Life is a panoramic of miracles.
But today, Tom and I are taking a leap of faith. We'll follow the footsteps of three small children...to whom a huge miracle occurred. The story goes a woman appeared, and water gushed from a rock. The overpowering scent of roses accompanied her appearance, and the children ran home to tell! From there, a church was built. And people flocked there, much like my robin on its tree. People who had never walked, could now set foot on the earth for the very first time, the blind could see. The woman was Mary, and her miracles in Lourdes are very well known. Monumental miracles.
I have experienced miracles such as these in my life. I've had a son born at twent-four weeks, a brother-in-law, diagnosed with leukemia at a young age...a time when no cure was imminent, grow up and share the joys of life with me.
I've experienced the miracle of death as well. A sister who hadn't moved for weeks, her body beaten by the awful effects that cancer can bring. But even when I thought our communicating was done, she started to rock back and forth and we prayed the rosary one last time. That was our moment. Soon the room filled with an energy that truly was palpable. My heart felt so full, I thought it would burst. And then, she was gone. But I was left with a total knowing, a sense that her life was complete. And because of that I was complete as well...she would be well cared for, I knew.
So life? Is full of miracles! Will Tom walk on a beach and hold my hand once again like he'd done for so many years? I'm not so sure. What I do know is that miracles require prayer and mindfulness! I wish I'd paid a little more attention to those footsteps on the beach...savored that time we had. But now, I know. I watch. I savor. I take one day at a time, and pay close attention, as often as I can.
Today, I ran into a man walking his dog, Isaac, a large black lab, a favorite friend of my dog Reilly's. He told me Isaac has been diagnosed with cancer, but he has been praying the rosary for him. Amazing. I told him I'm headed for Lourdes. His eyes lit up, he knew exactly what that meant. So...a little holy water from the spring will be coming home for Isaac now. Imagine, what a chance encounter that was!
Miracles? C'mon...I'm a Mets fan! Of course I definitely believe!