Mother Faithful

It’s too easy—and misguided—to get lost in debating the cause of the recovery in terms of religious beliefs or lack thereof. Because in focusing on trying to be right and prove a point, we miss the true beauty of the story: the boy’s awakening and recovery.

What I find almost as amazing as his recovery, is that my mother had the thought (some would say prayer) and belief that she could change a stranger’s fate simply by wanting it to change. The medal carried hope: my mom’s and my mom’s friend’s and then the family’s. Maybe somehow the selfless, loving intention influenced the recovery.

A faith and belief chain was formed in this boy’s life by total strangers to him: my mother’s faith was shared in some way by whoever phoned 911, by the operator who dispatched the call, by the paramedics who rushed the boy to the hospital, by the hospital personnel who took him in and cared for him every moment in the hospital, by the boy’s parents who dropped everything else in their lives and stayed by his side every day since the accident, and by the family friend who transported the medallion and placed it on the boy’s bed.

Without the efforts and the underlying belief of these people, the boy would very likely have died.

Too often we are an “I’ll believe it when I see it” society. This complacent attitude is defended as being realistic. I don’t know if that’s true but it does seem to be destructive. It is the opposite of faith, which sees the possibility of things that are not in front of our noses. Our world depends on this more than we know. The “show me and I’ll believe” attitude is inherently flawed because no creation is ever manifested before it’s begun. Negativity breeds destruction. The world we live in depends on positive belief, hope, and faith to continue. If we depended on cynicism and negative thought, we would destruct and cease to exist.

Human nature is creative. We have perpetuated ourselves and this planet. The vision and belief always come first and then the action follows.