A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly

jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured the

change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three

times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance

here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar

and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and

made her way 6 blocks to Rexall’s Drug Store with the big

red Indian Chief sign above the door. She waited patiently

for the pharmacist to give her some attention but he was too

busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing

noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting

sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter

from her jar 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 from Chicago whom

I haven’t seen in ages,” he said without waiting for a reply

to his question. Well, I want to talk to you about my brother,

Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. “He’s really,

really sick… and I want to buy a miracle.”

“I beg your pardon?” said the pharmacist. “His name is

Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and

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’m sorry but I can’t

help you,” the pharmacist said, softening a little. “Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn’t enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs.”

The pharmacist’s brother was a well-dressed man. He stooped

down and asked the little girl, “What kind of a miracle does

your brother need?”

“I don’t know,” Tess replied with her eyes welling up. “I

just know he’s really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can’t pay for it, so I want to use my money.”

“How much do you have? asked the man from Chicago.

“One dollar and eleven cents,” Tess answered barely

audibly. “And it’s all the money I have, but I can get some

more if I need to.”

“Well, what a coincidence,” smiled the man. “A dollar and eleven cents—the exact price of a miracle for little brothers.” 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. Let’s see if I have the miracle you need.”

That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon,

specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn’t long until Andrew was home again and doing well.

Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events

that had led them to this place. “That surgery,” her Mom whispered, “was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?”

Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost…one

dollar and eleven cents .. plus the faith of a little child.

In our lives, we never know how many miracles we will need.

A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the

operation of a higher law.

– Author Unknown