Small Miracles​

written in 1975 for presentation to

the Toastmistress Group of Orlando, Florida

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The glaring lights overhead reflected the miracle occurring that very moment! The white, sterile, almost untouchable atmosphere surrounded a few intense and dedicated human beings. In an instant, the strained and sweat-beaded faces broke into grins from ear to ear -- as through the silence could be heard a slap, a gasp, and then a loud and helpless cry -- the miracle of life unfolded around this small group of people -- a Baby was born! Now what happens to you little baby?

Ideally, of course, this tiny wisp of humanity will be placed in the arms of a loving mother. He will be nursed and cuddled and cooed-to -- he will be kept warm and safe, only to be whisked away in a few days to a great multitude of other outstretched arms eagerly waiting to hold and touch him. Daddy, brother, sister, aunt, uncle, grandma, grandpa, friend -- all await the arrival home of the new infant. Anxiously and adoringly you look into his bright blue eyes. You watch his tiny fists clench, his legs kick, and his soft little mouth pucker into a sucking motion.

Thoughts race through your mind as his tiny fist unfolds and wraps around your finger. What helplessness, you think, what beauty!! The sight of a baby affects even the strongest, burliest male much the same way it does the softest, most loving female. This wee little imp can but wiggle his nose and smile -- and reduce you to “mush.” So as baby enters the world of “family,” he grows and thrives on the love and care being showered upon him. Long before his eyes begin to focus he senses the security that is his. With the deception of an occasional DPT shot or diaper rash -- this child feels pretty certain he’s been given a good deal in life. So while this fortunate individual is growing strong in mind and body, while his future is being planned & cared for -- and barring any ill-fate -- he will mature into a happy, useful adult.

What might have happened to another baby born that same day? A baby perhaps with slanted eyes & yellow skin. In contrast to our first baby, this child may be considered just another burden -- just another mouth to feed. Although a mother’s love, for the most part is instinctive, circumstances of poverty and desperation can cut into that love until there is little left but a gnawing ache! This baby, born in the semi-sterile atmosphere of a mission hospital is taken home to the dampness & mustiness of a bamboo shack! The floor is dirt, the room is dark, the sun struggles to enter the small opening in the wall. There is no clean, white crib, no stacks of soft warm kimonas [sic], no eager arms to hold him.

The lifestyle that surround this baby is poverty. His Daddy is away, fighting a war he does not understand. His mother must leave him alone to find whatever way she can to make enuf money for food. He’s not even sure she will come back to get him. Life itself is not considered too important. the survival of the fittest rules this society, and there is little concern for the other guy. War has kept his baby’s homeland separated and devastated for years.

There’s another baby that went home that day, too. This tiny life was transported into the world of living Hell! There are many voices in the small, dingy room where the baby lies. The TV blares, the smell of scorched food fills the air. A man sits slouched in a beat-up arm chair -- unshaven & dirty -- a row of beer cans line the floor beside him. Other children play in that room, and a child’s argument breaks out -- the father frowns and angrily yells, “Shut up!”

The children continue their argument. The father, enraged by the noise and confusion, dulled by the alcohol he’s consumed, gets up from his chair. The children become silent as he lumbers menacingly toward them -- then out of the strained silence -- the baby cries!! As the tearful and defeated mother walks through the hospital emergency room carrying her bruised and beaten baby, we wonder why?? We ask how??

For you see, all babies in this world are not born into a downy, pink and blue marshmallow cloud! We see their sadness staring out at us from almost any magazine we pick up. The picture of a starving, desperate child -- fear and uncertainty etched in their tiny faces. the newspapers echo the cries of the children and hospital rooms depict the torment thousands of children live with each day -- and many die with!

The TV screen recently has brought very close to all of us the suffering imposed upon the children of Vietnam. Very vividly we see their terror & as we sit safely in our homes, thousands of miles removed from such danger, our hearts ache for the tragedy and helplessness of these children. AS we sit across the dinner table from our own children, watching as they fill their bellies full, we ooh and aah about how unfortunate those poor children are. At times we even brive [sic] our children into emptying their plates by saying, “The children in Vietnam would sure like all that food!”

But do we really care -- can we go beyond all the ceremonial-like comments we make and really “pitch-in” for humanity? We shouldn’t be asking why and how all the tragedies beset these children. Only God knows the reasons for such suffering, and we can’t question His plan for our Universe. But, He did endow us with one characteristic that at least separates us from the beasts. He gave us a will -- a will to choose, a unique ability to think. We can choose to sit idle or pitch-in and help our fellow man. We should be asking What, not how & why, but What can I do to help? What can I do to teach my children the joy of helping others less fortunate? By my actions, do I show my children I care what happens to others? children are almost impossible to “fake out” you know -- they see right thru your falseness and insincerity. But the miracle of life does not end in the delivery room. Each of us is responsible for what becomes of that life. Of course, you can’t control the fate of every baby born in the world. You can’t take under your wing every waif that comes along. But, you can pitch in & volunteer your time, your money, your prayers for the improvement of unliveable conditions. For you see, we were born to be our brother’s keeper. If you don’t think so, just put the shoe on the other foot. Put your baby, your loved one, your small miracle in one of life’s tragic situations and just watch how quickly you pitch-in!!

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Phyliss J. McCarthy

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