Once upon a time, an elderly woman decided to do a good deed. She gathered up all the things she no longer needed things that just took up space and weighed on her mind. There were lovely blouses, dresses, hats, skirts practically anything that cluttered up her cupboards. She thought to herself, Ill take all this lot to the local parish church, in case someone in need could use it. Maybe a homeless person or a refugee.
She packed everything into a sturdy old bag and set it neatly in the corner, planning to take it the next day. Feeling accomplished, she went to bed.
That night, I had the oddest dream.
It felt as though my soul had drifted out of my body, watching everything unfold from above. The world was filled with a strange, soft light, even though I was still inside my little flat. My spirit felt so at peace, almost joyful.
There I stood in the centre of my sitting room, clutching the bag Id so carefully packed, ready for its journey to the church. Suddenly, in front of me, appeared a young girl.
What have you got in the bag? she asked.
Smiling, I replied, Oh, just some things I no longer need. Theyre only taking up room. I thought Id give them to those who could really use them. Im planning to drop them off at the church tomorrow.
Youre very kind, she said with a nod, but the bag doesnt look very nice. Its a bit grubby. Give it a good wash before you take it, wont you?
Oh yes, of course.
Just dont forget, she grinned, then vanished.
I awoke with a jolt, the dream vivid in my mind. I couldnt stop thinking: was that an angel, or something of the sort?
Glancing at the bag, I started unpacking everything. Well, if the bag needed washing, then off it goes! The whole thing sounded like nonsense, honestly. Perhaps youd call me superstitious I wouldnt blame you. Id have thought the same a few years ago, until something happened that Ill never forget.
There was a family who lived above me. Theyd just had a baby boy, their second child. To celebrate, they invited friends and family round to share their joy.
The flat was packed; people offering congratulations, marveling at gifts. Yet, no one praised or cooed over the babys beauty. The parents, a bit old-fashioned and rather superstitious, had told everyone not to compliment the childs looks or say how lovely he was. They believed it was bad luck. The guests, not wanting to upset the hosts, obliged. They began saying negative things instead, almost as a joke.
My word, what a plain baby. Oh dear, lets hope he grows out of it!
Yes, he isnt exactly a charmer, is he? How odd!
Everyone took their turn, waving dismissively at the infant. The relieved parents gathered everyone into the next room. Their older son, standing nearby, overheard all of this. He watched as the adults sneered and dismissed his baby brother, and drew his own conclusions: if his brother was so terrible, why should he stick around?
He didnt dwell on it long. In a childish impulse, he picked up the baby and dashed out onto the balcony. Looking around to see if anyone was watching, he tossed his little brother over the railing, just as hed thrown away his unwanted toys.
When I first heard about what happened, my heart leapt into my throat. It wouldve ended in tragedy, if not for a stroke of true providence.
Just at that time, Id finished washing the bag I planned to take to church, and hung it out on the washing line to dry just outside my kitchen window, one floor below the family upstairs.
It was then, unbelievably, that the baby came tumbling down landing straight into my freshly washed bag.
Later, the parents noticed that the flat had become eerily quiet. Rushing to check, they found the older boy on the balcony, but the baby was nowhere to be seen. In frantic panic, they asked him what happened.
Well, he was ugly and nobody liked him, the boy replied simply. So, I threw him away.
The mother nearly fainted. The father charged outside to search. By sheer luck, or, as I thought, by a miracle, the child was safe and sound, cradled in my bag.
What a blessing! the parents sobbed, clutching their son close.
And who did they thank for this miracle? Who do you think? The little old woman downstairs, of course. No one mentioned God, except me, naturally. I know well enough that luck like that doesnt come out of nowhere, and if I hadnt had that strange dream, I never wouldve washed the bag or hung it out at that very moment.
Why do people always call it luck, and never think to offer thanks to the Lord? Ive wondered about it for a long while, and perhaps everyone has their own view. Ill only say this: I dont believe in accidents. I offer my humble thank-yous to God alone. Because tell me, what miracle happens without His hand?
Тисни «Подобається» і отримуй найкращі пости у Facebook ↓
