Tess, a clever eight-year-old girl, overheard one day her mom and dad were talking about her younger brother, Andrew. She understood that he was very sick. Next month they will be moving from house to apartment, because dad doesn’t have enough money for the bills for the doctors and the house. Now Andrew would only be saved by a very expensive operation and it seemed that no one could lend them money. She heard her father whisper to the crying mother unhappily: ‘Now only a miracle will save him!’
Tess went to her room and pulled out a glass container from her secret stash in her wardrobe. She dumped all the change on the floor and carefully counted them, even three times. She must have known exactly how much she had. She couldn’t make a mistake. She carefully returned the change to the treasury, screwed in the lid and slipped out the back door. She went six blocks to the pharmacy with a large red inscription above the door.
She patiently waited for the pharmacist to take care of her, but he had a lot of work. Tess began to tread loudly to make a creaky sound. It didn’t help. She coughed as hard as she could, it didn’t even work. Finally, she took the quarter out of her container and started knocking on the glass counter. It’s already taken!
‘And what would you like?’ the pharmacist asked in an unpleasant tone. ‘I’m talking to my brother, whom I haven’t seen in years,’ he said, not expecting any answer to his question.
‘Well, I want to talk to you about my brother,’ Tess said. ‘He’s really sick and I want to buy him a miracle.’ ‘What please?’ said the pharmacist. ‘His name is Andrew and something bad is growing in his head, and daddy said that now only a miracle will save him. So how much does a miracle cost?’, the little girl said urgently.
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t help you, we don’t sell miracles here,’ said the pharmacist in a slightly nicer voice. ‘But sir, you don’t understand, I have money! If that’s not enough, I’ll get the rest. Just tell me how much it will cost, please!’
The pharmacist’s brother was a very well-dressed man. He bent down and asked the girl, ‘What kind of miracle does your brother need?’
‘I don’t know,’ Tess replied with tears in her eyes. ‘I just know he’s very sick and mom said he needs surgery. But daddy doesn’t have the money for it, so I want to pay for it.’
‘How much do you have?’ the gentleman asked. ‘1 dollar 50 cents,’ the girl replied almost inaudibly. ‘It’s all I have, but I can get more if needed.’
‘Well, that’s a coincidence,’ smiled the man. ‘A dollar of 50 cents is exactly the amount of a miracle for little brothers.’ He took the money with one hand and took Simonka by the hand with the other. ‘I would like to talk to your parents. We’ll see if I can do the kind of miracle that will be needed.’
The well-dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon specializing in microsurgery. He performed the operation for free and before long Andrew was home again and he was doing well. Mom and dad discussed together a chain of events that led them here. ‘The operation,’ Mom whispered, ‘it was a miracle. I wonder how much it would cost.’
Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost – one dollar and fifty cents – plus a little child’s faith.
