Once upon a time, an elderly woman decided to do a good deed. She gathered all the things in her home that she no longer neededitems that just cluttered up her space and weighed on her mind. Among them were lovely blouses, dresses, hats, and skirtsanything and everything that took up space but served no purpose for her anymore. She thought to herself, I shall take these to the church, just in case anyone could use them. Perhaps someone whos homeless or a refugee will find them useful.
She packed everything neatly into a bag and set it in the corner of her flat, resolving to take it to the church the following day. Content with her plan, she went off to bed.
That night, believe it or not, she had an unusually vivid dream.
It felt as though her soul had drifted away from her body, and she watched everything unfolding from above. The room was bathed in light, even though she remained in her own flat. Her spirit felt light and full of joy.
There she was, standing in the middle of her room, holding the packed bag in her hands, ready to take it to the church. In front of her stood a little girl.
What do you have in your bag? asked the girl.
The woman, smiling kindly, replied, Ive collected things I no longer need. Theyre just taking up space here. I want to give them to those who might truly need them. Ill bring them to the church tomorrow.
Youre very kind, said the girl. But the bag doesnt look niceits a bit grubby. Would you mind washing it before you take it?
All right, all right, answered the woman.
Just dont forget, the child smiled, then vanished as quickly as shed appeared.
The woman woke with a start, gradually recalling the details of her dream. An angel, perhaps? She wondered.
She glanced over at the bag and began taking everything out. Well, if it needed a wash, shed give it a washno trouble at all.
On reflection, the whole thing might sound a bit funny, perhaps even a touch daft for an old woman to take her dreams so seriously. You might say she was superstitiouswell, once I would have said the same. But let me tell you what happened next, and you can judge for yourself.
In a nearby family, a little boy was bornnot their first, but their second child. To celebrate, the parents decided to invite friends and relatives to share their happiness.
The house was full of guestseveryone congratulating the parents, admiring the baby, and presenting gifts. But there was no fussing over the child, no gushing praise. The parents were rather superstitious and forbade others from complimenting their sons looks or saying how beautiful he was; they believed it would bring bad luck. The guests respected their wishes. Instead, they looked at the baby with indifference and deliberately made negative remarks.
Oh, what a plain little fellow, theyd say. Lord save us, hes not much to look atdont even care to glance at him. One by one, each guest dismissed the child. The parents breathed a sigh of relief and led everyone off into another room.
The older boya child’s big brotheroverheard all of this. He watched as visitors expressed disappointment in the newest member of the family. In his young mind, he resolved: if the baby was so dreadful, why keep him at all?
He didnt ponder it long. He snatched up the baby and ran out onto the balcony. He looked round, and then, as if discarding an old toy, he dropped his baby brother over the edge.
I was shaken to the core when I heard what happened. It could have been a true tragedy, if not for the mercy of God.
As fate would have it, the elderly ladythe one who had that curious dreamlived just one floor below.
She had just finished washing the bag and put it outside her window on the washing line to dry.
And right then, as if from the heavens themselves, the baby felland landed straight into her bag.
By the time the parents noticed the eerie silence in the adjacent room, it was almost too late. They went in, found their older son on the balcony, and realised the baby was missing. Frantic, they demanded to know what happened. The boy replied matter-of-factly, Well, he was ugly and unnecessary, so I threw him out.
His mothers heart all but stopped. His father raced outside, desperately searching for their child. Thank God, the baby was perfectly fine.
What a miracle! the parents cried, clutching their baby to their chests in relief.
And who did they thank? Who do you suppose? The grandmotherly woman, of course. No one gave the matter over to God except that old woman. She knew luck alone never explained such things. Shed never have bothered with the washingif not for the angel in her dream.
Why is it that people think its just luck? Why do they never raise a word of thanks heavenward?
Ive thought a great deal about it over the years and considered all sorts of reasons, but never quite understood. I suppose everyone has their own ideas. All I know is, I simply cannot believe in coincidences. I thank God for all such moments, because honestlywhat true miracle happens without His hand?
