Like any good mother, when Karen found out that another baby was on the way, she did what she could to help her children 6 year old son Michael, and 3 year old Hilary prepare for a new sibling.
They found out that the new baby was going be a girl, and day after day, night after night, Hilary sang to her sister in mommy’s tummy. She was building a bond of love with her little sister even she even met her.
The pregnancy progressed normally for Karen. 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 and Hilary’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 a nearby hospital. The days inched by. The little girl got worse. The pediatrician had to tell the parents to prepare for the worst, there was very little hope she would make it.
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.
The children, however, kept begging their parents to let them see their sister.
“I want to sing to her” Hilary said. She kept nagging about singing to her sister, but kids were not allowed in the Intensive Care Unit. Karen decided to take the children whether the hospital allowed it or not. If they didn’t see their sister right then, they may never see her alive.
She marched them into ICU. The head nurse tried to stop them. “I am so sorry, but no visitors under thirteen are permitted.”
The mother in Karen rose up strong, and the usually mild-mannered lady glared with unwavering determination, her lips a firm line, and said to the head nurse. “This little guy and his sister are not leaving until she has the chance to sing to their new sister. Then Karen and the kids walked confidently past the nurse and straight over to the baby’s bedside.
Hilary gazed at the tiny infant losing the battle to live. After a moment, she began to sing. In the sweet and innocent pure voice of a 3-year-old, Hilary sang: You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray.
Almost instantly the baby girl seemed to respond. Her pulse rate began to calm down and become steady.
“Keep on singing, Hilary!” Karen said with tears in her eyes.
You never know, dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.
As Hilary sang to her 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.
The new baby began to relax and a healing rest swept over her.
“Keep on singing, Hilary.”
Tears had now conquered the faces of the nursing staff who had gathered around. 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 took a miraculous turn for the better. Before long she was able to go home with her big sister and big brother holding each one of her precious little hands.
The medical staff just called it a miracle. Karen called it the miracle of love.