-----Original Message----- From:
Lois Henrickson <Lytingale@a-o.com> To: _Myself
<Lytingale@a-o.com> Date:
Wednesday, July 01, 1998 12:00 AM Subject: The Brother's
Song
Like any good mother, when Karen found out that another
baby was on the way, she did what she could to help her 3-year-old son,
Michael, prepare for a new sibling. They found out that the new baby
was a girl. Day after day, night
after night, Michael sang to his sister in Mommy's
tummy. The pregnancy progressed
normally for Karen, an active member of the Panther Creek United Methodist
Church in Morristown, Tennessee. Then the labor pains came. Every five
minutes. Every minute. But complications arose during delivery. Hours
of labor. Would a C-section be
required?
Finally, Michael's
little sister is born. But she is in serious condition. With sirens
howling in the night, the ambulance rushes the infant to the neonatal
intensive care unit at St. Mary's Hospital, Knoxville, Tennessee. The
days inch by. The little girl gets
worse. The pediatric specialist
tells the parents, "There is very little hope. Be prepared for the
worst. Karen and her husband contact a local cemetery about a burial
plot. They have fixed up a special room in their home for the new baby.
And now they are in the process of planning a
funeral.
Michael keeps begging
his parents to let him see his sister. "I want to sing to her," he
says.
Week two in
intensive care. It looks as if a funeral will come before the week is
over. Michael keeps nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are
never allowed in Intensive Care.
Karen, however, makes up her mind. She will take Michael to visit his
sister - whether they like it or not. If he doesn't see her now, he may never
see her alive. She dresses him in
an oversized scrub suit and marches him into ICU. He looks like a
walking laundry basket, but the head nurse recognizes him as a child and
bellows, "Get that kid out of here now! No children are allowed in
ICU." The mother rises up
strong in Karen. This usually mild-mannered lady glares steel-eyed into
the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line. "He is not leaving until he
sings to his sister!" Karen
tows Michael to his sister's bedside. He gazes at the tiny infant
losing the battle to live. And he
begins to sing. In the pure
hearted voice of a 3-year-old, Michael sings: "You are my
sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray---"
Instantly the baby girl
responds. The pulse rate becomes calm and steady. Keep on
singing, Michael.
"You never know, dear, how much I love
you, Please don't take my
sunshine away---"
The
ragged, strained breathing becomes as smooth as a kitten's purr. Keep
on singing.
"The other
night, dear, as I lay sleeping,
I dreamed I held you in my
arms..."
Michael's little
sister relaxes as rest, healing rest, seems to sweep over her.
Tears conquer the face of the
bossy head nurse. Karen
glows.
"You are my
sunshine, my only sunshine.
Please don't take my sunshine
away."
The girl is well
enough to go home!
Woman's
Day magazine called it "The Miracle of a Brother's Song." The
medical staff just called it a miracle. Karen called it a miracle of
God's love. A few weeks
later, Michael's little sister was baptized at the Panther Creek
Church.
"For with God
nothing shall be impossible." - Luke 1:3
