Sunday, November 06, 2011


Miracles have been a part of my life since I was a young girl. I call them miracles because they defy normal life happenings and the probability of them happening is so rare, that no other explanation other than that they are a miracle, or a grace from God. I am deeply thankful for these. I may have written about them in the past, but cannot seem to locate that article, so I'll write them once again.

The first miracle I remember is when I am around five years old, chasing after my sister and aunt, who are older than me. It is a sunny day and we are crossing the street. I am wearing black shoes, white socks, and a dress. As I'm crossing the street, I run into the path of a car. The next thing I remember, is that I'm on the sidewalk, and there are several people around me, looking down with concerned faces. Apparently, the car had run over my leg, because my shoe had been removed. I remember looking for my shoe, and slipping it on. Being five, I did not have laced shoes, but a strap that was buckled. I then stood up and walked away, very shy and not used to all this attention. It wasn't until years later that I realized the miracle that had happened. Someone/God/angel had kept me from being harmed by the car.

The second major incident was a few years later. I must have been 8 or 9 years old. In the Greek Orthodox religion, we are christened when we are babies. The nouna, or Godmother gives the child a cross as part of the christening. I wore my cross just about everywhere, and while going to school. I loved it because the gold was intricately woven, almost lacelike in feature, and shaped like a cross. In the center was a small stone. Anyway, I remember coming home one day from school. It was a September afternoon, and I found out that somehow I had lost the cross. I was dismayed and so was my family. I kept looking for it at school, in my classroom, gym class, etc., but couldn't find it. Three days later, as I was walking to school, a black girl came toward me holding the cross. She showed it to me and said, "Is this your cross?" I was so happy to receive it. I did not know who she was and did not see her again. My mother was very happy and said it was a miracle. That day was the day the Greek Orthodox observed the day of the cross. Was it a coincidence or a miracle? You decide.

Until next time...

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