Hi all,<o:p></o:p>

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I may have told some of you this story before, but because it’s both the tenth and twentieth “anniversary�?of this story, I thought I’d send you this special Mother’s Day story.  I hope you’ll be blessed.<o:p></o:p>

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In 1985, my mother was dying of cancer.  She had discovered a lump in her breast in June of 1982, and by the time the mastectomy was done, the lump had grown so large, it was wrapped around two of her ribs.  There was little hope, but she fought the cancer valiantly for three years.  The Monday before Mother’s Day, 1985, I had an overwhelming urge to go home to see her.  She was in the hospital in <st1:City w:st="on">Little Rock</st1:City>, and I lived and worked in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:City w:st="on">Houston</st1:City></st1:place> �?over 500 miles away.  I was in the middle of producing the first telethon for the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:City w:st="on">Houston</st1:City></st1:place> chapter of the March of Dimes, scheduled for the end of June, so taking off from work for a few days to drive home wasn’t in the books.  I had to fly.  And I was broke. <o:p></o:p>

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After arguing with myself for 24 hours over charging something I couldn’t afford to pay for, I gave in and put the round trip ticket on my credit card.  I would be flying out on Saturday morning, and my former brother-in-law would pick me up at the airport and take me to the hospital so I could surprise both of my parents.  When I walked into Mama’s room Saturday afternoon, I had a big red bow planted on top of my head, and said, “Happy Mother’s Day!  Here’s your present!�?lt;o:p></o:p>

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Mama was thrilled, and we spent all day and into the night talking.  I spent the night at my parents�?home Saturday night, went back to the hospital and spent a few more hours with Mama, then my father took me to the airport for my flight back to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:City w:st="on">Houston</st1:City></st1:place>.  As I flew home, I thought about what a great visit it had been.  I did not know that it would be the last.  <o:p></o:p>

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On June 1, 1985, my mother died.  My sons and I had flown home the day before, but she was so far gone, she was barely aware of anyone’s presence.  The doctors had been asked to keep her as comfortable as possible and to “take no heroic measures�?to keep her alive.  My father and I wanted to allow her to be free of all that pain, no matter how hard it was for us to let her go.  Saturday morning, she was gone.  <o:p></o:p>

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One interesting aside is that I never received a bill for that airline ticket!  I can only assume that the Lord sent the bill to “data heaven�? because it never came to me!<o:p></o:p>

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For the next ten years, every Mother’s Day, no matter how hard I tried not to, I would end up in tears for several hours, unable to get past my grief that was so closely associated with that final Mother’s Day visit with my mother.  Every year, I’d tell myself I was past all that, and every year, something would happen to knock me off that tightrope of recovery from grief and slam dunk me back into mourning once again for my mother.<o:p></o:p>

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In 1995, my son and daughter-in-law were expecting their second child.  The pregnancy was extremely difficult, and  Trish was in and out of the hospital again and again.  On Friday afternoon, May 12^th, I had been into Branson to take something to my husband who was working on the Showboat Branson Belle, as was my son, Guy.  When I got home, Trish was at my house, sitting at the dining room table with my next door neighbor.  Both of them looked very shaken up.  I said, “What’s going on?�?nbsp; And in a very shaky voice, Trish said, “My water broke.�?nbsp; My first words were, “It’s too soon!�?nbsp; The baby was not due for another 8 ½ weeks!  <o:p></o:p>

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I grabbed the phone and called the Showboat office, telling the woman who answered to get Guy off the showboat and send him to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:City w:st="on">Springfield</st1:City></st1:place>, and that I’d meet him at the hospital with Trish.  I knew the boat was out on a cruise, so I didn’t know how they would accomplish that feat.  I later learned that they cut the cruise short to get Guy back to the dock �?otherwise, I have no doubt he would have jumped ship and swam all the way back to shore!  <o:p></o:p>

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I took the long route to the hospital, because the shortcut would have put me through far too many isolated areas, where I would be too far from help if I needed it.  The long route would take me past two other hospitals and three small emergency clinics, so I’d be near help if Trish got into trouble.  It took us over an hour to get to the hospital �?I must say that it was the longest hour of my life!<o:p></o:p>

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Guy was pacing the sidewalk in front of the hospital when we drove up, and he quickly put Trish into a wheelchair and took her inside.  After we got her settled into a labor room, I called the showboat again and told them to get my husband off the boat when it landed.  His boss was the person who answered the phone, and she very nastily told me that J.R. “has another cruise to do today�?  I don’t recall exactly what my next words were, but J.R. said I apparently scared the wits out of his boss, because he was off the boat and waiting for me when I got there to pick him up!<o:p></o:p>

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We drove straight back to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:City w:st="on">Springfield</st1:City></st1:place>, and went straight to the labor room �?which was empty!  Confused, we started looking around, and finally found Guy talking with a doctor.  Trish had been rushed to surgery for an emergency c-section.  The baby had the cord around her neck, and was going to die if they didn’t get her out.  The problem was, it appeared she might die anyway.<o:p></o:p>

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Christian Kate was a very sick little girl when she was born.  In fact, the doctor wasn’t giving us a lot of hope, and asked if we’d like to come into the NICU and hold her, with the implication that it might be our only chance.  J.R. and I said no, that we could do her more good elsewhere.  The doctor looked at us like we’d grown three heads, and went back into the NICU shaking her own head in confusion.  We turned on our heels and headed for a bank of pay phones down the hall, where we began calling everyone whose phone number we could remember, asking them to pray for our little Christian Kate.  <o:p></o:p>

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Two hours later, we were back at the NICU, and could see the doctor standing over Christian’s crib looking confused.  She glanced up and saw us, and came outside immediately.  She said, “I don’t know what’s going on, but that baby is getting stronger by the moment!�?nbsp; We both grinned and I said, “We know what’s going on.  God’s answering a thousand prayers and healing our baby girl.�?lt;o:p></o:p>

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Seven hours later, they took Christian off the ventilator because she was breathing on her own!  And two weeks later, we took her home �?six and a half weeks before her due date!  <o:p></o:p>

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Two days after Christian was born, we were invited to scrub, don surgical gowns and go into the NICU where they would allow us to hold her.  A little nervous because she was so tiny and there were so many wires and tubes attached to her tiny body, I sat in the rocking chair they’d placed next to her crib, and two nurses very carefully laid Christian in my arms for the very first time.  It was Mother’s Day, 1995, and as I sat there holding that precious little life in my arms, I could feel God healing my heart that had been broken ten years earlier.  In many more ways than one, Christian Kate is my miracle baby, the one that God brought into the world early so she could heal my heart.  <o:p></o:p>

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Christian is a very special child who lights up every room she enters, and touches the heart of every person she meets.  She’s a straight “A�?student, and on the honor roll.  And last year, she accepted Jesus as her Lord and Savior and was baptized.  And today, Mother’s Day, 2005, it’s four days before her tenth birthday, and she still fills my heart to overflowing every time I see her, because she is one of God’s special miracles in so many ways.<o:p></o:p>

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I’ve attached a picture of Christian so you can see what a little beauty she is!<o:p></o:p>

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Love,<o:p></o:p>

Bonnie Ricks<o:p></o:p>

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Please visit us at www.RWWOODWORKS.COM !