Easter miracles really do happen

Many years ago when my family was young we had three toddlers and a 5-year-old. I remember we had just returned from a reunion for the holiday of Passover with my husband’s family. Waiting for the airport bus at Boston Logan seemed to take an eternity. It was in the evening, we were all tired and the children needed to stretch their legs after having been cooped up on the airplane. “I’ll take the twins for a ride on the escalator,” my husband said. To my chagrin I didn’t keep our not quite 3-year-old Grace with me, but allowed her to accompany them. Not five minutes later I heard a huge commotion and looked up to see a security guard and my family all huddled around my daughter Grace. I rushed over, “What’s going on? What happened?”

Grace had lost her balance going up the escalator and reached down with her hand to catch herself. As a safety measure the escalator crunched to a halt when it sensed a foreign object, but not before her tiny, little hand had been caught in the workings of the metal staircase. There was no blood, but her hand was limp and covered with black grease. I carried her to the ladies room to wash her hands, needing to get away from the glaring lights and curious onlookers, to see how badly she was injured.

“Mommy my hand feels like clay.” With those words my heart sank and my whole world gave way. The next thing I knew I was getting into an ambulance and we were slowly weaving our way through unyielding cars to Children’s Hospital. They were very kind at the hospital and after X-rays and an examination the doctors said, “Time will tell. Either her hand will heal, or not.” They explained that since at her age the tiny bones in her hand were not yet fully formed and hardened, they had literally been flattened in the escalator. “It’s possible that within a few days the bones may start to heal, but there is nothing we can do for her.”

We went home and that night I reached for a book that I had borrowed from our church library called "The Healing Light" by Agnes Sanford. This book had called to me from the bookshelf and I had taken it home to read a few weeks prior. Now I put the words of Sanford to work, praying for my daughter’s hand to heal. I imagined that I was talking directly to Jesus on behalf of my daughter. Bringing the light of Christ into my mind and my being, I asked Christ’s healing light to mend her little fingers so that she could move them again. I prayed all night and felt God’s presence with me. Grace always had such patience as a small child and I told God that she needed her hands to heal because I imagined that one day she might be a doctor and would need both hands in order to help others.

What should have been a wonderful homecoming after a happy trip to see our family had become a nightmare, but I was comforted by my thoughts of Jesus and his mercy.

The next morning was Easter. I remembered that I had purchased a bouquet of daffodils from the American Cancer Society before our trip and had stuck them inside the refrigerator, hoping they would survive until we got home. I took out the little bundle of green stalks. They were cold, damp and wilted but I placed them in a little vase with water and put them on the kitchen table just in case they might live. A little while later I saw a wondrous sight: the daffodils stuck in the refrigerator for a week had bloomed. The bright yellow flowers filled my heart with hope.

When Grace woke up that morning, I gingerly held her little hand in mine and asked her how her fingers felt. She smiled weakly and started to move the tips of her little fingers just the slightest bit. I couldn’t help but start to cry tears of joy because I knew that she was healed and that I had just witnessed an Easter miracle in my little child.

This story has stayed with me all of these years; the striking symbolism, the joy, the overwhelming thankfulness for the grace of God and the mercy of Jesus Christ.

My child was made whole again on Easter morning.

Grace is grown now with a little daughter of her own. She has become a Reiki Master who uses her hands to heal others in mind, body and spirit.

And all these many years later I see another miracle at work.

This past year I have watched the infections climb, waited to see if I would get sick, wondered when business would get back to normal, and my vigil seemed to have no end. But this spring a miraculous vaccine has brought hope and, like so many others who have waited so long, I now know I will be able to hug my granddaughter and my children again very soon.

For me, Easter brings new hope, the renewal of life and a reminder that God is always with us, within the silence of our hearts, we just have to look for Him.