I believe in miracles. That things not guaranteed to happen can happen.
My younger sister was born five months premature. None of us thought she would
make it through, including the doctors operating on her, but she did. Looking at her
circumstances an average person would say to let her go, but my mother said no and as
stubborn as she was in the situation, got her wish fulfilled. When delivered my sister
weighed one pound and six ounces. She wasn’t a fully developed baby nor could she
open her eyes. When I saw her for the first time, I remember I had a breakdown and all I
did was cry and I remember my father saying, “don’t worry, one day you wont get
enough of her.” I understood his sarcasm and smiled. For I knew he was just as sad as I
was, possibly even more.
A hundred days passed and finally my family was told that the baby was well
enough of being taken home. My parents were delighted when my sister came home, we
were all so happy. For many months my sister was on heavy machinery and at age four
had a major surgery on her legs, so she could walk properly. Now eight years have passed
and my younger sister is the best she could be with no problems as the doctors had said
she would have.
I believe that people who make mistakes do repent, even if it is after a long time. I
did not know that doctor very well, who said my mom did not have any problems, while
pregnant. I did not know that doctor very well, who said my mom complained too much.
I did not know that doctor very well, who even after finding out about my mother’s early
delivery and the fact that she had a five pound infection in her womb, did not once come
by to say sorry. Though I do know this that he did feel sorry somewhere in his heart of
making such a big mistake, but he just did not have the sincerity of saying it to one. This
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