MIRACULOUS HEALING : When you don't have to die!

“because my mother's cheeks had regained their color”.    

The events that follow take place around 1953, when I was just fourteen. We lived in Pas-de-Calais. My mother had met my stepfather at the mine, when she was still working there. He was a coal miner, and his salary was modest.

We lived in precarious conditions, which prevented me from continuing my studies. So my mother placed me with some paper manufacturers not far from the Belgian border. I was responsible for cooking and looking after their two children, aged three years and six months. I only went home once a month.

The couple's little daughter always cried at bedtime. I couldn't stand her crying, so I discreetly took her with me. One particular evening, I didn't hear her crying as usual, which worried me. When I went to check her room, I discovered that she was sleeping peacefully.

In the middle of the night, at around 3am, I was woken from my sleep by a bright light, accompanied by a voice repeating: "You have to leave". I felt paralysed, unable to move. Then everything went quiet again and I went back to sleep without understanding the meaning of this experience.

That weekend, as I was due to take my leave, my employers, who had invited me to a wedding, had asked me to look after the children. On Friday morning, at around six o'clock, the telephone rang. I heard my employer arguing heatedly with the person on the other end. After hanging up, he knocked on my door and told me I had to go home, without giving any explanation.

When I arrived home, the family doctor was already there. He informed me that he would be back the next morning, as he didn't have the necessary document to draw up a death certificate for my mother, who had given no sign of life. She'd had a miscarriage, couldn't be taken to hospital and had lost a lot of blood. I didn't realise the extent of the situation: at the time, we were innocent children and our mother, who was very strict, told us not to ask questions. As for my stepfather, he could only express himself in an approximate dialect, as he was illiterate.

Once the doctor had left, in my naivety, I took my mother's hand and prayed the "Our Father" until late at night. The next day, when the doctor came back, he exclaimed: "It's a miracle", because my mother's cheeks had regained their colour, Psalm 143:1. He sent my father-in-law to the chemist's with a prescription for some medicine. His reaction suggested that something supernatural had happened.

My mother lived for another forty years after that and had a daughter.

Years later, after my conversion, I looked back on that day and realised that God had orchestrated my life in an incredible way. I was an instrument of his will, used to bring my mother back to life, Psalm 145:18-19.

Rolande