When the darkness closes in,
and shadows stretch across your heart,
don’t let your spirit fade away.
Just when you think it’s all done,
a spark ignites in the silence;
a whisper on the wind.
Hope is a fragile seed,
waiting for the sun’s embrace,
to break through winter’s hold.
In the quiet, a gentle nudge—
a sign, a smile, a simple word,
God sends you a miracle,
wrapped in courage, love, and light.
Hold on, dear friend, hold on tight;
the dawn is just around the bend.
On a crisp autumn afternoon, leaves fell like golden confetti around the small, weathered cottage where Grandma Sushma lived. It was a charming little place, sat at the end of a winding trail framed by towering oaks and whispering pines. The scent of cinnamon and baked apples wafted from the kitchen as 10-year-old Preeti bounded up to the old wooden porch.
"Grandma! Grandma!" she yelled, her voice a mix of excitement and urgency. She burst through the door, her curly hair bouncing with each step. Grandma Sushma looked up from her kitchen table where she was rolling out dough for her famous apple pie. Her grey eyes twinkled behind her glasses, a smile breaking across her weathered face.
"What’s got you all riled up, my little firecracker?" Grandma asked, wiping her flour-dusted hands on her apron.
Preeti plopped down in a chair, her eyes wide with anticipation. "I got in the school play! They’re doing ‘The Enchanted Forest,’ and I get to play the fairy queen!" Her voice squeaked with glee.
“Oh, how wonderful!” Grandma cheered, her heart swelling with pride as she approached her granddaughter. “You’ll be enchanting indeed!”
But, as the excitement began to fade, a shadow crossed Preeti’s face. “But… what if I mess up? What if everyone laughs at me? What if I forget my lines?”
Grandma Sushma leaned in closer, sensing the worry pounding behind the innocent excitement. “Ah, my dear. Every performer has those thoughts. You know what I always say? ‘Never lose hope, for just when you think it’s over, God will send you a miracle.’”
“What do you mean?” Preeti asked, tilting her head, intrigued.
Grandma smiled wistfully, her mind drifting back to when she was just a bit older than Preeti. “Let me tell you a story, sweetheart. Once, when I was about your age, I dreamed of being a great singer. I sang all the time, everywhere I could. One day, a big talent show came to town, and I was determined to enter. But a week before the show, I caught a terrible cold and lost my voice entirely. I was heartbroken.”
Preeti’s eyes widened. “What did you do?”
Grandma chuckled softly. “I thought my dream was over. That all my hopes were dashed. But then something miraculous happened. A neighbor heard about my plight and, knowing I loved music, invited me to a small gathering. It was there, surrounded by friends, that I found the courage to sing again. The joy of the moment, their encouragement— it sparked something in me. When the day of the talent show came, I nervously stepped onto the stage, praying for help. And when the time came for my turn, I opened my mouth and sang. And there, before me, the miracle happened; my voice was stronger than ever! I carried them through the song, and at the end, the entire audience stood and cheered.”
Preeti was captivated, leaning forward in her chair. “Did you win?”
“I did,” Grandma replied, her voice soft yet proud. “But more importantly, I learned that hope can light the way, even in our darkest moments. Often, just when we feel all is lost, a glimmer of light shines through, and we rediscover our strength.”
Grandma’s words resonated with Preeti. She could almost feel a warm glow in her heart, a reassurance that everything would be alright.
“Now,” Grandma continued, gently squeezing Preeti’s hands, “whenever you feel afraid, remember that story. Let it remind you to trust in the process. Sometimes, really wonderful things come to us when we least expect them. Just… never, ever lose hope.”
As they shared a slice of warm apple pie, the chill of autumn faded with the warmth of Grandma’s words. Preeti knew that no matter what happened in the play, she would embrace the moment, her heart alight with hope, ready to take on the world just like her brave Grandma had so many years ago. And deep down, she believed in miracles—because every story told around that cozy kitchen table seemed to breathe the truth of that faith into her soul.
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