This is a very special Thanksgiving angel miracle. I wish all our members and their families the best Happy Thanksgiving ever! Lots of love, light and hugs. &,Uma     It was Thanksgiving 1988. Jane and Alban Theriault's children and grandchildren were at their house in Lewiston, Maine, to celebrate-in both French and English (the family has always been bilingual). Alban lifted the huge turkey out of the oven, set it on the countertop, and loaded the baster with drippings for a final squirt. Just then, the Theriaults' nine-year-old granddaughter, Kari, skipped up. "Pepere, can I help?" she asked. "Be careful, dear," Alban began, but to his horror, the boiling-hot fat spurted out of the dropper in his hand and splashed over Kari's face. "Oh no!" he shouted as the little girl screamed in pain. People came running from every room. Kari was badly burned. Gravy drippings had splattered on her chin and half of her mouth, and had scalded her tongue. Liquid had also fallen on her chest, and since her dress was made of nylon, the high heat had burned even more deeply. Kari's mother, Christine, a nurse, decided not to take her hysterical daughter to the hospital. She did everything for Kari that the emergency-room staff would have done, then put her in Alban and Jane's bed. "Kari cried for four hours," Jane recalls. "Her skin split open and hung from her chin. The blotches on her chest were raw. It was the worst Thanksgiving any of us had ever had." Perhaps Alban was the most devastated. How had he allowed this to happen? Kari would be scarred for life-and every time she looked in the mirror, she would blame her grandfather. It was almost more than this quiet, gentle man could bear. On Friday and Saturday, Kari's pain increased. Her tongue was badly burned, and her lips stuck together. Liquids from a straw were her only nourishment. Her face got worse and worse. Jane and Alban had four tickets for Father Ralph DiOrio's healing service on Sunday in Worcester. "Why don't we take Kari so Father can pray over her?" Jane suggested. Christine agreed. There are usually thousands of people at this kind of service, and crowd control is imperative. "No one can get to Father DiOrio unless he calls you," Jane explains. But Jane couldn't wait for that. When the priest left the stage to bless people in the balcony, Jane grasped Kari's hand, went to the opposite end of the hall, outside and around the building, then inside, right where he was approaching. An usher came up, presumably to tell Jane she was blocking the aisle and would have to leave. "But I could hear Father making his way through the crowds, and as he came down some stairs, I turned Kari around toward him," she recalls. Father DiOrio stopped. "What happened to her?" he asked Jane. "She's been burned with hot gravy, Father." The priest took holy oil from his pocket, touched Kari's wounds with it, and prayed for her healing. Jane began to thank God. She felt certain that everything would be all right. The next morning when Kari awakened, she said, "I'm hungry, Mom. Can I have some real food?" Christine looked at her. Her raw face and chest didn't seem any better. "Kari, you know you can't eat," she reminded her. "Mom, I'm fine. Nothing hurts, really." Kari did eat an enormous breakfast, so Christine agreed to send her to school. Kari's teacher and classmates were horrified at her injuries, and she spent all day explaining what had happened. But on Tuesday, oddly, the wounds seemed to be closing. On Thursday when Kari got up, her mother screamed. "Kari! Look in the mirror!" Kari did. Neither of them could believe what they saw. Kari's skin was smooth and perfect. Not a scar, not even a blister remained to show where the sores had been. Her teacher and friends were astonished too. How could such terrible wounds simply vanish? Alban Theriault took Kari with him to prayer meeting that week. He held her high in his arms, tears of joy spilling down his cheeks, his broken heart mended. And Jane, too, pondered this wonderful occurrence. "It was interesting that we just 'happened' to have four tickets for the healing service," she muses. "And even more interesting that God took away Kari's pain first, but not her burns-which allowed her to go to school, where many witnessed the damage." Days later, everyone saw a little girl's perfectly restored faceand knew what God had done .........