By Eliza Boom
With my hands dripping wet, I ran to the phone and grabbed it. “Hi, this is Eliza.”
“Hello, Eliza, this is Aunty Karen.”
“Oh, hi, Aunty Karen!”
“Can I please talk to your mum?”
“Sure, here she is.” Passing the phone to Mum, I went back to the dishes. A few seconds later I heard Mum say, “Oh, no . . . Is she all right?”
I stopped scrubbing and looked over at my mother’s worried face.
“Her shoulder? OK, I’ll be there in five minutes . . . sure . . . bye!” Mum hung up the phone. I looked at her questioningly.
“Grandma has had a fall, Eliza. Aunty Karen thinks she’s broken a bone in her shoulder. I’m going up there to see her.”
“Can I come?”
“No, dear, you’d better not. If it’s bad, we’ll have to take her to the hospital, and we could be a while.” Mum pecked me on the forehead. “Tell Dad where I am.” And with that she was out the door.
The next day I visited Grandma. Her arm was in a sling–it looked
tremendously sore! But her bright blue eyes still twinkled as she beckoned me to come closer. “Come here, Eliza! I want to tell you one of those stories that can only be described as a miracle.”
I sat beside her and waited for her to begin.
“I was at home on my own yesterday and decided to write some letters. I got up from my chair and headed to the office. But on the way I tripped on the fireside pavers. It was like it all happened in slow motion. Trip . . . Fall . . . You know what I mean?”
“The next thing I knew, I was flat on my face on the floor! I tried to get up, but my right shoulder was so sore, I couldn’t do a thing. For a moment I panicked. I knew Grandpa wouldn’t be home for maybe an hour. I started to crawl towards the phone, which was ten or so meters away. I got a third of the way, but I was so exhausted, I couldn’t go an inch further. I prayed to God, ‘Oh Lord, here I am, in a pickle!’” Grandma winked at me, then continued. “‘Please send someone to help me, because it might be hours before anyone finds me. Please send someone!’” Grandma looked at me and asked, “And what do you think happened then, Eliza?”
I shook my head. “What?”
“Well, not even a minute later, I heard a car pull up outside. I didn’t know who it was, but when they knocked on the door, I was more relieved than I have been in a long time! I called out to them as loud as I could, but they didn’t hear me! As you kids say it, I was ‘freaked’ that they would presume no one was home and leave.”
“My side was starting to hurt from lying on it. Every time I moved my arm, it hurt very much indeed. So I did something I bet you’ll never guess.”
“What, Grandma? You didn’t scream, did you?”
Grandma shook her head. I just wanted to hear the end of the story! So I joked and said, “Did you fly onto your feet?” I grinned.
Grandma chuckled and said, “Well, not quite! I prayed again. ‘God, please, please, please make them open the door so they can hear me.’ The prayer had barely left my lips when I heard the door being opened and a voice calling out, ‘Hello. Is anyone home?’
“That’s when I yelled! ‘I’m in here! Help me, I’m on the ground and can’t get up!’ And this time they heard me! Someone rushed in. Do you know who it was?”
I had no idea.
“In came your Aunty Karen. She helped me up and then rang you and the ambulance. But the wonderful miracle is that God told Karen to call in. She was actually driving past our place on her way to see your mum, but she felt an inner prompting to stop and visit me for a while. What perfect timing!”
“Man, Grandma, that’s amazing.” I gave her a gentle hug.
For days after that I couldn’t stop thinking about how awful it would have been if Grandma had lain on the floor in pain for hours. But all my life Grandma has told me that God answers prayer. And that day I knew she was right! He hears us when we cry to Him in trouble, and even before we call, He answers!