Mariah, my 5 yr. old, had been complaining of a tummy-ache all afternoon, but I did not think it was too serious until she told me she felt really cold as well. I immediately sent her to bed. Right at that same time, lots of little children poured in our front door. Every other week, the youth and children in the area come to our house to sing praises; it's called Sunday Singers. I felt bad that I couldn't go cuddle Mariah right then; but it was close to impossible since I was responsible for all the rambunctious children in the basement.
After everyone left, Mariah came out of her room. She had been sleeping and had a high fever. Even though she wasn't coughing, I massaged vapor rub on her chest and back because she thought it would make her feel better. I kept an eye on her through the night, and I hoped and prayed it wouldn't turn into anything more serious. She looked so weak.
With our faces still close to each other and in her sweetest, most tender voice, Mariah said, "Mommy, when I went to bed last night I asked Jesus to help me to feel better. Then I woke up, and I told Jesus thank you for making me feel better!"
We had the most tender hug for the longest time. Jesus heard Mariah's perfect plea for help. I could feel that Mariah knew she had just experienced a miracle... a miracle of love and a miracle of healing.