Week two in intensive care.
It looks as if a funeral will come before the week is over.
Michael keeps nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are
never
allowed in Intensive Care. But Karen makes up her mind. She will take
Michael whether they like it or not. If he doesn't see his sister
now,
he may never see her alive.
She dresses him in an oversized scrub suit and marches him into ICU.
He looks like a walking laundry basket, but the head nurse recognizes
him as a child and bellows,
"Get that kid out of here now! No children."
The mother rises up strong in Karen, and the usually mild-mannered
lady
glares steel-eyed into the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line.
"He is not leaving until he sings to his sister!"
Karen tows Michael to his sister's bedside. He gazes at the tiny infant
losing the battle to live.
Then he begins to sing. In the pure hearted voice of a 3-year-old,
Michael sings:
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies
are gray--- "
Instantly the baby girl responds. The pulse rate becomes calm and steady.
"Keep on singing, Michael."
"You never know, dear, how much I love you, Please don't
take my Sunshine away".
The ragged, strained breathing becomes as smooth as a kitten's
purr.
"Keep on singing, Michael."
"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you
in my arms..."
Michael's little sister relaxes as rest, healing rest, seems to sweep
over her.
"Keep on singing, Michael."
Tears conquer the face of the bossy head nurse.
Karen glows.
"You Are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Please don't, take my sunshine
away."
Funeral plans are scrapped.
The next day-
the very next day-
the little girl is well enough to go home!
Woman's Day magazine called it "the miracle of a brother's song."
___________________________________________________
NEVER GIVE UP ON THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE!!!
The greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing...
-Anonymous