A Mother Miracle Story
My best friend had been fighting cancer for thirty years. His life, though, was a series of one miracle after another. He beat three different rare, terminal forms of cancer. I’m not a doctor and I’m not a theologian but my friend was alive, decades after the doctors told him he would be dead. One time, he was healed through the intercession of St. Mother Frances Cabrini. That is a wild story for another day. I’ll need his family’s permission to tell it. Another time, he was healed through the intercession of St. Padre Pio. Another story for another time.
My friend and I went to high school together but he went off to college and I joined the Army. We talked, now and then, over the years, and my family visited his a couple times during my career. When I retired, we moved to the town where his family lived and found a house a block away. From that point, we talked most days and watched football games together. When my parents came to town, he was one of their long lost sons. His parents had passed long ago so I was happy to share mine, when they were around. When my parents passed, he was a huge comfort to us.
My friend was the faith-filled, faithful person I knew, which is saying a lot because I am married to an uber-Catholic woman who prayed me back to faith. I’m not sure why God let my friend stick around so long. Maybe God was waiting for me to stop wasting time in the darkness and come back to Him. When I finally woke up, God rewarded me by letting me be with someone who loved, and I mean loved Jesus. Our conversation centered around family, football, and faith. And life was good.
I’m sure you’re thinking, “This is nice but you promised a miracle story for Mother’s Day.” That I did. Here it is:
After being cancer free for a while, my friend told me his doctor found cancer. Because of all the treatment he had received, through the years, he was not able to receive any more radiation. None of the drugs were effective. The best cancer centers in the country refused to take his case. They all told him the same thing. “There is nothing we can do; the cancer is too advanced. You have about three months to live. Go home, get your affairs in order, and spend your last days with your family.”
Like his family, I was absolutely crushed. There was nothing I could do…….but pray. I prayed. I prayed hard. I remember falling to my knees in my room and sobbing to God, asking Him to heal my friend. I’ll let you in on a secret. If you don’t believe in Heavenly intercessors, you are missing out on a huge, powerful river of grace. I decided to pray to the Mothers to intercede for my friend. I started with the Blessed Mother but, just in case she was busy, I called in my secret weapon. My friend’s mom was a little Italian lady who, like every little Italian mom I know, had an indominable will. Plus, she’d been in Heaven for fifteen or more years, so I figured she had the place wired. She probably knew everyone!
I prayed to his mother. Then I prayed to my mother. Then I prayed to Mother Teresa, Mother Angelica, and any other mother I could think of. I asked them all to mobilize the moms of heaven to beg God to save my friend one more time. Who is going to say no to all those moms?
While all this was going on, some friends and I (mostly them) kicked in to send our friend and his wife to Lourdes, France, to seek healing at the site of the Blessed Mother’s appearance to St. Bernadette. This truly was our best shot at a Hail Mary play. But God decided not to wait until they got to France.
I swear this next part is true. The next day, I called my friend on my way home from work, like I did every day. He had been to see his doctor again to look for any possibility. Something odd happened. It turned out that my friend actually could receive more radiation. Someone must have read his chart wrong. What an amazing coincidence. Then the doctor had an inspiration to combine the drug cocktail in a different way. What did they have to lose?
The new drug cocktail killed the cancer. Killed. The. Cancer. At least, that’s the official version. In reality, the moms killed the cancer. I am convinced and always will be that the intercession on so many moms did exactly what I prayed it would do. My friend was healed. He and his wife still went to Lourdes. They still bathed in the mysterious, healing water but now, it was more in thanksgiving than supplication.
My best friend passed away three years later. His body had too much damage from all the years of fighting cancer. His heart gave out. Sure, I’m sad to have lost my friend but the doctors said he would live three months. God said he would live three years. He lived to meet and play with his first granddaughter. He lived to help his daughter through a very difficult life trial. He lived to care for his family after a devastating fire destroyed their home. He lived to rebuild the family home, better that it had been.
He lived, cancer free, for three years. His family doctor confirmed that, when my best friend died, there was no sign of cancer in his body. I didn’t do that. I don’t want or deserve any credit. God healed my best friend. God…………and the Moms
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