Do You Believe in Miracles?
If you were sitting in a room and a vase would rise up from the table and be suspended in mid-air, would you call that a miracle or an optical illusion?
Or if a man falls out of a plane at 20,000 feet hits his head on a cement road on impact and then gets up and walks away, would that be a miracle, or that it just wasn’t his time to go? Or maybe he had a hard head?
When I went to Medjugorje, I didn’t expect to see a miracle. I just wanted to be where they said the Virgin Mary appeared. To me, it was something to see, all these people who “believed.” It brought thousands and thousands of people there because they “believed.”
I was there with my wife and a group of ladies from Charenton. They all wanted to climb the mountain where the big cross was and where they said the Virgin Mary appeared. I was there with a foot that I had broken only three months before. I saw people going up the mountain, four abreast – all singing “Ava Maria.” There were old people crawling on their knees – some were on crutches. They all “believed.”
These people had faith. Well, I said to myself, “If they can go, I’m going.” So, I did. The terrain was rough and it was sprinkling rain. There were huge rocks all over the path. When I got started, I told Ruth to quit pushing me up, that I could make it.
But she was not pushing. It seemed that I had help – like a strong wind was pushing me. I didn’t have any problem climbing. The inspiration that made me want to climb this mountain was an old lady in her 80s – she was crawling on her knees. She was always even with me, singing “Ava Maria.”
She kept me in high gear. We all made it o the top where the cross was. It was a great feeling.
Next day, I went to the home of one of the girls who saw the apparition of the Virgin Mary. When I shook hands with her, I got cold chills.
I didn’t see any miracles, but I enjoyed every minute of being in Medjugorje. We also visited Mostar and Dubrovnik.
When we got to the Kennedy Airport in New York on our way home, we went to the place where our luggage would hit the conveyor. There were thousands of bags. My bag was the first one to hit the deck’ the second bag was my wife’s. Now, that to me, seemed like a miracle!
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I had a premonition that Tat Cefalu is going to send me a couple of white eggplants.
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When I told my doctor about my loss of memory, he made me pay in advance.
* The End *