Music: Lord Jesus, When I think of Thee
| Quote for the Day: I am realistic -- I expect miracles. Wayne Dyer |
Miracle Monday! Some of you may remember a time or two when I talked about Miracle Monday. Just a day to look about for miracles and be expectant for them to happen. Well today while I was washing the dishes (always my best time for meditation) the thought came to me to make every Monday - Miracle Monday - in which I will share with you some miracle that has happened.
Of course I will need you to share those miracles with me so I can share them with everyone else! What I would like to do is each week pick a Miracle Topic and ask you to think and share if any miracle that has happened comes to you on that topic.
You can share them on the Blog below or in an email Miracle Monday Note: If you put them on the blog them everyone can share them.. because I can only share one or two from the email.
So here is the topic to share a miracle on!
Please put that in the subject line if you send an email and in the comment section of Monday, March 5, 2007 blog spot.
I will share my miracle with a pet to get the Miracle Monday started! It is a miracle that I have shared before but it has been a long time so probably a lot of you have not heard it. Anyway a good miracle story is always worth repeating!
When I was in grade school we were quite poor and pretty much lived from paycheck to paycheck. Sometimes the paycheck didn't quite stretch that far. One morning we had cereal for breakfast but no milk. Our dog JoJo who was a very wonderful dog had been out and about that morning and when he returned he had in his mouth a full half gallon carton of milk!
We had no idea where it came from and he was not the kind of dog that normally went about carrying things in his mouth like some dogs do as a natural thing. JoJo had never brought anything home before or did after that. But on that one morning when we had no milk.... JoJo provided!
We all thought it was a miracle at the time and still do! Of course no doubt someone probably missed their half gallon of milk from the milkman that morning.... but I guess God thought it was nice of them to share with a family of seven kids that morning. No doubt God blessed them too.
Blessings of Peace and All Good,
Sister Patricia and all the Sisters
10 comments:
I had a miracle with a pet, though he wasn't mine ^-^!
I used to work as a kennel maid for a little show kennels where I looked after the same dozen dogs every day and became very good friends with all of them.
One of the particularly naughty dogs, Chip, though very sweet was a bit of a rebel. I walked him on the field as usual, but instead of going back in his kennel he decided to extend the adventure. Before I could stop him he ran off up the drive as quickly as possible. I just arrived at the garden in time to see him run straight into the road and disappear under a truck!!!
I screamed and covered my eyes, only to see him tumbling and tumbling as he went between the wheels instead of under them, apparently totally unscathed he shook himself and ran off down the road!
I alerted my boss, his owner who went out looking for him, with no luck. We were afraid he had run off up the motorway.
After a short time searching my boss returned home to see if Chip had come back to the house. He hadn't, but as soon as she opened the door the phone rang.
A friend of my boss, who used to work as a kennel maid there herself, had seen Chip saunterung down the street and taken him home where the only ill effects he had suffered was a chipped tooth.
He was a very special dog and it was a great relief to all of us to have him back safe and sound ^-^!
I am reading the New Testament. I find Jesus performing one miracle after another and His Disciples, also. Our Catholic Bishops have the authority handed down from Jesus, so teaches the Church. Yet, our Bishops refuse to attempt and discourage any miracles of healing by their brother Bishops and their clergy. Why?
My family was living in a small furnished house in Florida. We had moved from Boston. My pet parakeet, Pete, was enjoying the warm weather. One night, after we had all gone to bed, he was very noisy. He usually was very quiet when we covered him at night. Pete was making every noice and trying to say every word we had taught him. My mother finally got up and went into the kitchen where Pete was to quiet him down. Once in the kitchen she smelled gas and noticed the old gas stove was leaking gas. Our family owed our lives to Pete.
Our children had a dog named Ralph, the most beloved of all their childhood pets. They all claim this story is true and that each heard it. They were sitting around a table telling stories and sharing M&Ms with their friends. Each tried to outdo the other and the stories became rediculous, sending them into gales of laughter. Ralph sat with them by their little table, listening intently. After a particularly hilarious tale, they claim he laughed with them and said "That's the darndest thing I ever heard!" Our 3 daughters nearly fell from their chairs laughing with him then! They had always told me Ralph could do everything but talk. I guess he wanted to prove he could do that too. Each insists to this day, many years later, that Ralph spoke that day and that each of them heard it. It is a prized memory from a very difficult time for all of us. We had lost a 4th daughter, then experienced financial loss that left us hurting throughout the rest of their childhoods. In his own way, I think our dear Ralph tried to brighten their moment and give them something special to remember during that time.
We were a dog family until one morning my brother was waiting to take off with my mother and saw a little white furball cross the street and jump onto his huge truck tire. when my mom came out he showed her the kitten. Her heart fell, not another pet! (we already had 4 dogs). She took it and it was full of fleas, so she went and bathed him in the bathroom sink. We all worked together and she made it clear we had better find a home for that cat. We called everyone we could think of and it seemed every cat lover we knew already had a cat. We wound up with a frustrated mom and a new pet. He was a very special kitten, very sedate, and he had a way of looking you straight in the eye. Two weeks later we were into the advent season and we entertained a lot and EVERYONE who came at that time begged for us to give them the kitty, even people who had never had a cat before. He was bewitching. Of course, it was too late, we were in love. A year later, he lost his appetite one day, and the next we couldn't find him and finally found him behind a drawer in my brothers tool table. He was limp and close to death. The vet did a blood test and said he needed an immediate transfusion. Blood tests eliminated the dreaded and suspected leukemia. More tests, all negative. It was a mystery and we took him home. three days later he was dying again. Back to the vet and another transfusion. The vets (there were four or five at the clinic) couldn't figure what had caused the problem, but the problem was that the cat was not producing red blood cells and unless he did the kindest thing to do was euthenasia. Two days later my brother found him limp again and took him to an emergency overnight clinic, where he got another transfusion. The following morning we went to pick him up and found that the vets there had done their own tests and concurred: they had no clue why but he was not producing red blood cells so put him to sleep. We took him home to say our goodbyes. My brother was hurting too badly, so he asked me if I would go with my mom to have our own vets put him to sleep and he began to say his goodbye to our sweet Fluffy. My mother upon seeing his suffering said: Doug, I don't think he's going to die, he's going to be o.k.; don't worry.
Super stressed, my brother, quickly retorted: Yeah, right Mom, you know more than seven veterinarians. "No, she answered slowly, but I know Fluffy. He'll be fine." She and I took him to the original vets where I thought we were having him put to sleep. But when the vet walked into the room, my mom said to him: "I don't think Fluffy is going to die, so can't you just keep him and feed him intravenously?" For the first time in some seven years I saw anger and then frustration flash across the kindly vet's face. Then he took a deep breath and calmed himself. He then took a syringe full of Fluffy's "blood". It looked like grey water. He walked out of the room and came back a couple of minutes later. He came back and showed us the "blood" and told us that under the microscope, he could see that the only red blood cells left in the blood were adult cells from the last transfusion. Fluffy was not producing one single red blood cell. We could not keep him alive indefinetely on transfusions every couple of days. The kindest thing was to let him go. My mom, calm and cool as a cucumber and without missing a beat, replied. O.K. but could you just keep him and feed him intravenously? I should mention that at the time we lived in California suburb that was at that time 99.98% white and we were Mexican. My mom stood 4'8". He looked down on her and I'm sure he mustered all the control he could to keep from bopping her on the head. And so shaking his head in disgust, he said: O.K. but it's not going to do any good, you're just prolonging the suffering of the cat you say you love. It was sometime aroung ten in the morning.
We went to work and no one spoke all day about Fluffy, except for my Mom, who would every so often say to my brother: don't worry, he's going to be o.k., you'll see. At around 5, we got the dreaded call from the vet's clinic. Hi, the receptionist said cheerfully, you can all pick Fluffy up. No one understands why, but he's started producing red blood cells, he's alert and he can go home. After that, the vets and everyone at the clinic referred to him as the Miracle Cat. He died 16 years later of old age.
My miracle dog is Thunderheart, now almost 15. When I found him, outside my house, he was a severly abused, abandoned puppy. I just thought I should look out the door, and there he was, near the front grass. The vet told me he had a damaged heart, damaged sight, and a damaged digestive system, from beatings. And he was terrified. This little dog could barely keep food down, and vomited a lot. I created a sort of pablum out of rice, chicken noodle soup, or with mashed potatoes and milk, and feed him any way that worked. In time he grew, but remained slight. I was having troubles of my own, and after a very disturbing divorce, and loosing my children, "Thundy" decided I needed a new husband. I now have a very kind (Catholic) husband, and he says, that without the dog's approval, he is sure we would not be together. The dog has many friends, both animal and human, in our new neighbourhood, and he is confident and loving.
My husband was outside working in the yard, cutting and hauling off brush, when a little deer started walking along side of him, and followed him all day. The next morning we opened the drapes and there he was looking in the patio window..He stayed in our yard for about 3 weeks...it was beautiful, and he took food out of our hands. We had a little kitten, and one day our Pastor was over at our house, and the deer bent down and kissed the little kitten on the nose. Such peace and joy to see such a thing, and our Pastor said that we had been blessed by God . The deer walked the children down the driveway to the bus stop every morning, and jumped up and down like he was a dog..
When just a toddler a stray dog came home with my older brother who pleaded with Mum to keep her. All Mum had to feed her was a great, big bowl of porridge and she was so hungry she gulped it down. She was pregnant and her paw pads were so sore that Mum took care of her and she became the beautiful pet dog we called "Sarkey". I came into find Sarkey giving birth to the pups on my bed with my Uncle Wal cranky and taking her and pups already produced to down under the house which was upsetting for me because I really didn't want her and her babies anywhere else but there on my bed. There were 12 pups in all and Mum found homes for each one. Sarkey stayed with us and adopted me as her baby. One day I escaped through the front gate down to the gully. I had been missing a little while and Sarkey sounded the alarm and wouldn't leave my parents alone until they followed and watched her proceed to a deep ditch filled with blackberry bushes and lantana, all the while running round and round and barking. All I remember of that time is being pulled from the ditch but heard the story when I was older. Sadly, she died under my bed at 13 years of age. She was my first special animal friend and I am truly blessed by God in the home I now live with a very special canary called, "Mickey" and a lovely, little, grey tabby cat called, "Tinkerbell". All God's creatures are exceptional and special when treated with reverence and love. What a wonderful world if everyone looked not just on each other as brothers and sisters but also God's creation, especially those in God's animal kingdom. St Francis of Assissi saw and knew them in that way and he communicated with them because of that. Margaret from Oz.
Most people think their pet is special, but Mitzi was one of those special, special animals. The first time I saw Mitzi was when I went to the local Humane Society and saw this long haired spotted white and black dog. I was looking for a puppy because our present dog was getting well on in years, but one look at Mitzi and her beautiful brown eyes and I fell in love with her.
On inquiry I found that she was probably three years old and had been a street dog. When the vet examined her it was discovered that she had heart worms and was pregnant. The vet gave a discount on the heart worm treatment because she was a Humane Society dog and treated her. She had the pups soon after the treatment and only one survived.
She was a fantastic dog, but due to her years as a street dog we were never able to break her of taking off for an hour of running if she could get around the edge of the house when we had her out.
Luckily she stayed clear of the dog catcher, so she had only the one trip to the Humane Society.
When she was ten years old the local Humane Society formed a Pet Pal group and I signed us up. We were quite a pair, me in my late sixties and she at least ten. Mitzi was a natural. No matter who the person was, or what their problem she seemed to automatically knew what they needed. She worked with hospitalized patients, nursing home patients from disabled to mentally challanged and nursery school youngsters.
At thirteen she developed a tumor on her spine and was in extreme pain, so we had her put down. She has been gone for over ten years now, but if you are looking for another dog, don't bypass the older dogs, because they could be one of the greatest dogs that you will ever meet. If anyone heeds this advice then Mitzi will have done one more good deed.
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