Miracles come
Straight from the hand of God.
Miracles,
Ideas for God’s will to be accomplished,
Must, however,
Be done with human hands,
Done through
Open human hearts.
A miracle is
A human doing something Godly,
Something so amazing
That it’s hard to believe
And impossible to understand.
Miracle workers
Are questioned,
Often condemned,
Confusing us by their actions,
Amazing us by their ability.
The ability of
A heart open to God,
Willing to sacrifice
Looking practical,
Being respected,
Understood,
Is beyond what we can fathom.
This is what she did,
Who she was,
“The Miracle Worker.”
She often appeared to have a heart so cold,
Only in the end
To open a heart so warm to the world.
She appeared cruel,
To meet evils
Eye to eye.
She had to undo
All that’d been done.
All the long,
No one approving,
No one understanding.
She was alone,
Alone like the child she so shrewdly taught,
Alone in a home
With an open heart
Hiding behind a misunderstood mask.
Her foolishness
Was not that at all,
She simply was too wise
For common folk to comprehend.
She was not inconsiderate,
But rather
Considerate enough
To act
In a way that’d be best for all,
Though they didn’t see it then.
She was alone in her work
With only a deep desire
To help another little girl,
Also alone.
We were dumb to her intelligence,
Blind to her sight,
Deaf to her words,
Numb
To her feelings.
Mere human minds
Trying to comprehend
The handiwork of God.
Age 15