He was brought up to think miracles were uncommon…in his parents’ eyes anyway

highly improbable, extraordinary events…something you don’t see every day…


He never thought much about it…those seeds his parents had sown

until that miraculous day…he had a child of his own.


At this point his eyes were opened…his thinking began to expand

and he found his parents view of miracles….difficult to understand.


Every time his son opened his mouth…another miracle he’d unmask

Gradually revealing themselves to him in the questions he would ask:


Dad, what makes the sun come up? How come clouds are white?

What are my fingers for? What make the moon change shapes at night?


Why does the wind sometime make music? Why do birds fly so high?

How do the stars stay up in the sky?  What makes tears come when I cry?


Who makes the rain? How do flowers grow? What makes a summer breeze?

How come fire is so beautiful? Why do apples grow on trees?


With each question his son asked…every query…every appeal

His father had to smile as another miracle was revealed…


Yes, he was brought up to believe miracles were uncommon…

now he thinks a different way

It took his son to help him understand…

and see miracles…


every day.

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She was a beautiful woman…his friend…her heart…simple and pure

She totally believed in miracles…he…was not so sure.


As her end of life approached…as she stood upon deaths door

she spoke to him of miracles…as she never had before.


She said she couldn’t wait to see heaven…she wondered about the crowds

She wondered how easy it would be…to find her place among the clouds.


Knowing he was a skeptic…she took his hand one day

And said, when I get to heaven…I will find a way…


to help you believe in miracles…with angel wings I will take flight

I’ll get a message to you…I’ll show you everything’s all right.


He listened to her, held her hand and smiled while trying not to cry

as she spoke to him of miracles…until the day they said goodbye.


It was a few days later on a morning walk…still feeling bittersweet

when a feather floated from sky and landed at his feet.


A pure white feather which he picked up then turned his eyes up to the sky…

wondering if it had fallen off an egret flying by…


or could this be from an angel’s wing…as from heaven she took flight…

announcing to him she had made it…that everything IS all right….


And he smiled at her heavenly message…which was both sublime and sweet


that miracles can be as simple as a feather at his feet.

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I heard about a miracle the other day that brought a smile to the faces

of anyone who read of it…on Facebook…of all places…


It was a story about a little girl on a ventilator…in a hospital’s ICU

with her family surrounding her…unsure of what to do…


Unsure what was happening…unsure of who or what or when…

Unsure if she could hear them now…or would ever hear again.


When her mom leaned over and whispered into her ear

hoping her message would penetrate every chromosome,

reassuring her daughter that her family would be standing by

until she was ready to come home…


It was here Mom said she felt the faintest pressure 

her daughter’s thumb onto her hand…

just the slightest pressure sending waves

into her mom…across the land…


For anyone out there who read of it

Here’s a little quiz…

If that was not a miracle…please tell me then…

what is?


Sometimes I am amazed in life

how miracles overlap

for that same day we saw a baby

lying in his father’s lap.


We spoke to the young couple for a while

remembering how fast our children and grandchildren have grown

remembering back to when we were blessed

with miracles of our own…


And I couldn’t help thinking about miracles

how in our lives they play a roll

how perhaps they’re always near us

in the silence of our souls…


And how it’s true some miracles we experience 

may be sent from up above…

But I also believe some miracles


float in on the wings of love.

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On the day his grandson was born, when they placed him in his arms

Grandpa instantly fell in love…immediately taken by his charms.


He walked over to the window…shielding his grandson from the winter chill…

“Do you believe in miracles?” He asked…”Someday…I hope you will.”


He was in his arms again his first Christmas when Grandpa smiled and paused….

“Do you believe in miracles?” he asked…then he spoke of Santa Claus…


About a man who but once a year to each house comes to call

bringing a message of love…of peace on Earth…and good will to us all.


On his first Easter Grandpa scooped him up…the day was bright and sunny

“Do you believe in miracles?” He asked, then he spoke of the Easter Bunny.


A giant but sweet bunny who hops over in a bonnet and blue jeans

to celebrate the end of winter and bring us jellybeans.


On the night he lost his first tooth, in the glow of his bedside light

Grandpa asked, “Do you believe in miracles?” 

then spoke of a fairy who comes at night.


To rescue that tooth from under his pillow, leaving a little money in a pile

She combines that tooth with others she’s gathered…

to help people who have lost their smile.


On his wedding day, Grandpa gave him a hug…then gently tousled his hair

“Do you believe miracles he asked, then he spoke of the love two people share.”


“That there even is this feeling called love”, he said taking his hand in his….

“and that two people can share it…if that’s not a miracle…what is?”


“Do you believe in miracles?” Grandpa asked 

it was his last day…he was old and ill.

“Grandpa!” his grandson whispered in his ear,

“Because of you…I always will.”


On the day his granddaughter was born, the grandson, now a Grandpa himself,

took his new granddaughter to the window sill

“Do you believe in miracles?” he asked…


”Someday…I hope you will.”

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