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A Christmas Prayer

A Christmas Prayer

By

Mario V. Farina

Copyright 2016 Mario V. Farina

Shakespir Edition

Shakespir Edition, License Notes

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,

Electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information

Storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.

Correspondence may be directed to:

Mario V. Farina

Email: [email protected]

“Mr. Allen, I’m afraid prayer is the only thing left now,” said Doctor Henderson. “Medicine has done all it can. We could send her back to the hospital, if you wish, but it won’t help.”

“Her birthday is in a few days, December 25th, Christmas Day. Kathleen said she wanted to live until then. Is there a chance?”

“There’s always a chance,” responded the doctor. “So long as there is life, there is hope. However, the chances that she will live until then are not good. It would do no good to tell her this, though.”

“Is there any restriction in my seeing her during these last few days or hours,” David asked?

“No. There are no restrictions with this. Don’t stop her medicine. It is helping.”

“Doctor, how will I know when . . . “ He could not finish the sentence.

“She will slowly fade. You may be talking to her. Her responses will be fewer and fewer, then they will end. She will continue to breathe for a few minutes. Then she will stop breathing. She’ll feel no pain at the end.”

“Is resuscitation . . . ?”

“No. Don’t try it. It will not work. And it will not help you to begin your coping.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I believe I’ll be able to handle it now.”

After the doctor had left, David walked up the stairs and into the bedroom where Kathleen was lying. She was awake. “What did the doctor say,” she asked?

“There is always hope.”

“How long,” she asked? “Will I be here for Christmas?”

“He was vague about that.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“He said it was iffy. But I won’t accept that. I won’t. I’ll keep you with me until your birthday even if I have to breathe my breath into your lungs every second of the time.” David was on the verge of tears.

“I know you believe you don’t have a good voice, David dear, but I’ve heard you sing one of my favorite hymns. Would you sing it for me now.

“In the Garden?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll try.”

“Please do.”

I come to the garden alone

While the dew is still on the roses

And the voice I hear, falling on my ear

The Son of God discloses

And He walks with me

And He talks with me

And He tells me I am his own

David stopped singing and began sobbing. “I can’t continue,” he exclaimed. “At least, not for a little while.”

“Take your time, I understand,” she said.

“I’m all right now,” David said after a few minutes. He resumed singing.

And the joy we share as we tarry there

None other has ever known.

He speaks, and the sound of his voice

Is so sweet the birds hush their singing

And the melody that He gave to me

Within my heart is ringing.

He paused again.

“Honey, what will you do without me,” she asked?

“I’ll get along somehow, darling. Remember, you trained me. I can cook. I can clean. I can even make the bed. Only . . . “ She waited, but he did not finish his sentence.

“Please continue singing,” she requested.

And He walks with me

And He talks with me

He tells me I am his own

And the joy we share as we tarry there

None other has ever known.

I’d stay in the garden with Him

‘Tho the night around me be falling

But He bids me go; through the voice of woe

His voice to me is calling.

And He walks with me

And He talks with me

And He tells me I am his own

And the joy we share as we tarry there

None other has ever known.

“I won’t let you go,” declared David. “This hymn tells me that faith will keep you alive. Hold my hand, and let us declare that we will beat this terrible ailment that has afflicted you.”

“Do you think we can do it, darling,” she asked?

“Yes! Yes! We can make it happen! We will make it happen!”

“Dear, you’ve never said to me that you would do something, and then did not do it.”

“I will not fail you now,” he responded!

He took her hand in both of his.

“Let us pray. Dear God, I know that when we pray we are asking you to change your mind about something you decided at the beginning of time. I know we have no right to ask this. But your Son once said that if we wanted something, all we had to do was ask and have faith that what we were requesting would be granted. Today, I am requesting that Kathleen live to help celebrate Christmas and her birthday, which is also the birthday of your beloved Son. And, we make bold in asking that you take away this hideous disease that is preventing this, so that she and I will be able to celebrate many other Christmases together. We ask this in the name of your blessed Son.”

“I believe God heard me, Kathleen dear,” he said. “I believe God will grant this prayer. You must believe it also.”

“I do believe,” she said. “Now, I must sleep. Keep watch over me. Keep watch over me until I wake.”

David did keep watch. He experienced every breath she took. Hour after hour went by. Her breathing continued, sometimes rapid, sometimes shallow. At times, she would seem to stop breathing altogether.

The words of the hymn reverberated in his heart.

I’d stay in the garden with Him

‘Tho the night around me be falling

But He bids me go; through the voice of woe

His voice to me is calling.

Kathleen opened her eyes. She smiled. “How long have I sleeping,” she asked?

“An hour, two, twenty, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is you! How do you feel?”

“I feel good,” she said. “I’m tired of lying in bed. I’m getting up! There’s a lot to do before Christmas comes! I’m going to be with you this Christmas, and for many more in the future!”


A Christmas Prayer

  • ISBN: 9781370090068
  • Author: Mario V. Farina
  • Published: 2016-12-25 08:35:08
  • Words: 1094
A Christmas Prayer A Christmas Prayer