The Price of a Miracle

Sally was only eight years old when she heard Mommy and Daddy 
talking about  her little brother, Georgi.  He was very sick 
and they had done everything they could afford to save his life.  
Only a very expensive surgery could help him now and that was 
out of the financial question. She heard Daddy say it with a 
whispered desperation, "Only a miracle can save him now."

Sally went to her bedroom and pulled her piggybank from its 
hiding place in the closet. She shook all the change out on 
the floor and counted it carefully. Three times. The total had 
to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes.

Tying the coins up in a cold-weather-kerchief, she slipped out 
of the apartment and made her way to the corner drug store. 
She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her attention... 
but he was too busy talking to another man to be bothered by 
an eight-year-old. Sally twisted her feet to make a scuffing 
noise. She cleared her throat. No good. Finally she took a 
quarter from its hiding place 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."  

"Well, I want to talk to you about my brother,"  Sally answered 
back in the same annoyed tone. 
"He's sick . . . and I want to buy a miracle."  

"I beg your pardon," said the pharmacist.  

"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 can't help you."  

"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. Just tell me how 
much it costs."

The well-dressed man stooped down and asked, "What kind of a 
miracle does you brother need?"  

"I don't know," Sally answered.  A tear started down her cheek.  
"I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an 
operation. But my folks can't pay for it . . . so I have my 
money."  

"How much do you have?" asked the well-dressed man.  

"A dollar and eleven cents," Sally answered proudly.  
"And it's all the money I have in the world."

"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the well-dressed man.  
"A dollar and eleven cents . . . the exact price of a miracle 
to save a little brother." 
He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he 
grasped her mitten and said "Take me to where you live.  
I want to see your brother and meet your parents."

That well-dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, renowned 
surgeon, specializing in solving Georgi's malady. The operation 
was completed, without charge and it wasn't long until Georgi 
was home again and doing well.

Mommy and Daddy were happily talking about the chain of events 
that had led them to this place. "That surgery," Mommy whispered.  
"It's like a miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?"

Sally smiled to herself.  She knew exactly how much a miracle 
cost... one dollar and eleven cents... plus the faith of a 
little child.

 ~Author Unknown~

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