In the dim hospital corridor…
Five-year-old Oliver had been rushed to the hospital and taken to the upper floor. His mother wasnt allowed in, so she sat downstairs on one of the peeling wooden chairs, flinching at every sound. Struggling to think straight, she called her husband. Olivers in danger. Barely alive. Its bad.
Her husband replied calmly, Hes tough, like me and his grandfather. No need to panic. Everythings fine. Mum and I are at the cottage, picking mushrooms. Go home, dont get in the doctors waythey know what theyre doing.
The corridor felt suffocating, grim and indifferent. She stepped outside onto the hospital steps and called her mother. Mum, Olivers not well. I saw it in the doctors faces. Its bad, Mum. Tears spilled over.
Her mother answered briskly, Listen to me. Negativity attracts negativity. Push those thoughts awayfocus on the good. Believe in it. Light calls to light. Worrying wont help a thing. Pull yourself together.
The air in the corridor was thick. A nurse scolded her, Now, now, love, no hysterics! Let us do our jobs.
Only her sister remained. Claire, Olivers really poorly. The doctors wont say whats wrong. Hes unconscious!
Her sister soothed her. Children go through these things. Growing pains, they call it. Trust me. Crying wont helpyoull only make yourself worse.
Her mother retreated to the darkest corner of the hallway. The building was pre-war, untouched by repairs. Glancing around, she took off her necklace, knelt, and pressed the small cross to her lips. She didnt care who saw. Youre all-powerful. I know, I believe. Youve felt pain. You know what it is. Your own Mother wept, just as I do now. Reach out. Comfort me. Theres no one elsejust me and my pain. I beg for Your mercy, Your love. Help me, dear Lord. Only You.
She stayed there, motionless.
A door opened, and a figure in a white coat stepped out. The doctor saw her, approached, and offered his hand. Get up. Breathe. Your child will be fine. You have my word. Come now.
Leaning on his kindness, she stood. I cant speak. Thank you. Can I stay here tonight, on the chairs?
The elderly doctor smiled. Go home. Just go home. Rest easyall will be well. Call tomorrow. He handed her his card.
The next morning, her husband, sister, and mother insisted theyd been right all along. She should have listened, not lost her head like some madwoman.
But none of them understoodreal truth was beyond them. It lived in a mothers prayer, in a mothers love, in the One who never leaves, never turns away.
