The Sun XIX

A miracle is not defined by an event.

A miracle is defined by gratitude.
- Kate Baestrup

The following missive may seem to be one of those letters that gets written but is never sent.  However, I'm posting it on my little web, so it's obviously being "sent" somewhere.  It's just that the recipient, my mother, died long ago.  But I wanted to tell this story, and writing it as a thank you  letter is my way to formally express my gratitude.

Dear Ma,

I write this to thank you for the miracle.  I’ve been waiting for it ever since you died twenty years ago on a blue moon – a moon that portends miracles for those of us who believe in such things.  In all those years I never forgot the promise that the magical timing of your death foretold.  And I never told a soul that I’ve clung to the hope that one day it would happen. 

A few years later, when I could see how my life was unfolding, I felt as if only a miracle could save me from ending my days as a homeless bag lady.  I longed for a place where I could afford to live alone and in peace; a place I could call home. 

That’s when Elizabeth, my Polish colleague and a gifted psychic at the bookstore where I worked, pulled me aside to speak to me.

“I heard a voice last night when I was in bed.  It was a woman’s voice.  She spoke English.  I dream in Polish, so I knew it wasn’t a dream.  The voice said The miracle will happen.  That’s all she said.  The miracle will happen.  I know the message isn’t meant for me.  I think it’s meant for you, Silvia.  And I have the feeling it will be a while before it comes to pass.” 

Hearing Elizabeth relay your words reaffirmed my belief in magic and miracles.  Since then I’ve never paid attention to magically challenged people who dismiss me as a flake and a magical thinker.

Elizabeth was right about having to wait a while, though.  I confess that while waiting for the miracle my faith and patience were sorely tested.  Sometimes I thought I’d be struggling forever, and never have the means to live in peace and solitude.  But every once in a while you’d send me a sign to keep my hopes aloft.

The first time was a couple of years after Elizabeth spoke to me.  It was Mother’s Day, and a full moon, so you were on my mind more than usual.  I felt certain you would speak to me that day.  I was working at the bookstore and found a tiny piece of paper lying on the floor.  It came out of a Chinese fortune cookie and bore the message “You will live a comfortable old age.” 

That timely message became a mantra of mine, especially when I was low on funds and hope.  Despite all my efforts to stay afloat materially and spiritually, I wasn’t able to find peace and stability where I lived.  Conflict and confusion were a daily occurrence, and I just couldn’t afford to move out on my own.  I felt trapped.

Finally, almost four months ago, and fifteen years after I found the Chinese fortune, I found another one on the sidewalk, mere steps from where I lived.  It said “You are going to have a very comfortable retirement.” 

My intuition told me that after so many years and so many unmistakable signs from you, the miracle was finally about to happen.  And I was right.  Two weeks later I was offered a charming, affordable studio unit in a lovely, lively town I could only dream about before.  Skeptics would say I was lucky to have jumped to the front of a long waiting list.  It wasn’t luck, of course - it was a miracle.  And I have proof of that in black and white.  The date the housing application was originally drawn up was the same date as your death.

So thanks, Ma.  Thanks for giving me the gift of magic, and finding me a home.  I look forward to living in it peacefully, and comfortably, for the rest of my life.

Love, your daughter