Yep! I got watery eyes, all right. You know, they (whoever that is) tell us now that reading to babies or singing to them while they are in the womb, will register on their little computer banks in the brain, and they will learn to read faster and be more confident and secure as a child....things they hear will register more quickly, because they have heard much of it over and over from the womb. Facts bear this out.

This little girl in the story had bonded with her big brother before birth, and she was missing his voice...the bond was so strong that when she heard that voice, it took away the apprehension, the loneliness and whatever else was causing the problem.

Luke (now 4 years old) talks to Jake and sings to him, and has ever since Jake got here almost four months ago, and right now, whenever Jake is crying, Luke can go over to him and in his sweet, caring little voice, he will say, "It's okay, little buddy. You're going to be all right." Instantly Jake locks his eyes in on Luke and stops crying and calms down. Tim and Heather don't have that effect on Jake, but Luke does. And, he gives that baby lots of attention...kisses on him and oohs and ahhs over him and is protective of him...and has been ever since he got here. He takes that big brother business seriously.

Luke likes to spend the night with us, and the other day when they were getting ready to leave after coming by the house after church, Kathy said, "Luke, since you like to spend the night with Granny and Pa, how about it if we keep Jake tonight, and you go on home with Mama and Daddy?" He looked dead serious and said, "No, he has to go with me, because I'm his big brother." She answered, "Yeah, but he will like it here, and you can see him tomorrow." He replied, "No, he's not big enough or old enough to stay here by himself." She asked, "Well, when is he going to be old enough?" He said, "Not for a long time." Kids are our greatest earthly treasure from the Lord, and they are "heavenly." Read the story below (Walt)...

Beautiful story.

A Boy Singing to his little sister......

You are My Sunshine, My only Sunshine'
(Be prepared to get watery eyes!)

Like any good mother, when Karen found out that another baby was on the
way, she did what she could to help her
3-year-old son, Michael, prepare
for a new sibling.

They found out that the new baby was going be a girl, and day after day,
night after night, Michael sang to his sister in mommy's tummy.

He was building a bond of love with his little sister before he even met her.

The pregnancy progressed normally for Karen, an active member of the
Panther Creek United Methodist Church
in Morristown , Tennessee

In time, the labor pains came. Soon it was every five minutes, every
three, every minute. But serious complications arose during delivery and
Karen found herself in hours of labor.

Would a C-section be required?
Finally, after a long struggle, Michael's
little sister was born.
But she was in very serious condition.

With a siren howling in the night, the ambulance rushed the infant to
the neonatal intensive care unit at
St. Mary's Hospital, Knoxville ,
Tennessee . The days inched by.
The little girl got worse.
The pediatrician had to tell the parents
there is very little hope.
Be prepared for the worst.

Karen and her husband contacted a local cemetery about a burial plot.
They had fixed up a special room in their house for their new baby but
now they found themselves having to plan for a funeral.
Michael, however, kept begging his parents to let him see his sister..
I want to sing to her, he kept saying.

Week two in intensive care looked as if a funeral would come before the
week was over.

Michael kept nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are never
allowed in Intensive Care.
Karen decided to take Michael
whether they liked it or not..

If he didn't see his sister right then,
he may never see her alive..
She dressed him in an oversized scrub suit and marched him into ICU.
He looked like a walking laundry basket.

The head nurse recognized him as a child and bellowed, 'Get that kid out of here now. No children are allowed.'
The mother rose up strong in Karen,
and the usually mild-mannered lady
glared steel-eyed right into
the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line.
'He is not leaving until he sings to his sister' she stated.

Then Karen towed Michael to his
sister's bedside.

He gazed at the tiny infant losing
the battle to live.

After a moment, he began to sing.
In the pure-hearted voice of a 3-year-old, Michael sang:

'You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
you make me happy when skies are gray.'
Instantly the baby girl seemed to respond. The pulse rate began to calm down
and become steady.

'Keep on singing, Michael,' encouraged Karen with tears in her eyes.

'You never know, dear, how much I love you, please don't take my sunshine away..'
As Michael sang to his sister, the baby's ragged, strained breathing became as smooth as a kitten's purr
'Keep on singing, sweetheart.'

'The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms'
Michael's little sister began to relax as rest, healing rest, seemed to sweep over her.

'Keep on singing, Michael.'
Tears had now conquered the face of the bossy head nurse. Karen glowed.

'You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Please don't take my sunshine away.'

The next day...the very next day the little girl was well enough to go home

Woman's Day Magazine called it
The Miracle of a Brother's Song.

The medical staff just called it a miracle.

Karen called it a miracle of God's love..



Life is good.

Have a Wonderful Day

In God We Trust!

'The evidence of God's presence far outweighs the proof of His absence.'


CMcD said...

I guess there's no maximum setting on the drama dial. They just keep turning it up until there isn't a dry eye in the house... but it's OK to exaggerate because we're bringin' 'em in for Jesus!

Anonymous said...

GAH!! I am going into diabetic coma from all of the treacle pouring forth from this one...

The story is possibly true and moving, but as w/ most RWF's, these people don't get the concept of "less is more."

Turn down the volume a bit, stop giving exacting directions on when to pull forth the hankie for Jeebus, edit this down to something much shorter, and maybe, just maybe, you'll have a credible story to tell that will have some meaning...

In the meantime: zzzzzzzzz, wake me when it's over.

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