A friend said I should keep a journal of the blessings that I have received
from God. This very special person has also inspired me to share my
experiences with you. I hope you enjoy knowing of these times as much as I
enjoy telling about them.

There are five major times the Lord has had his hand on my shoulder and as
I get each one typed up, I will share it with you.

This is something that I only recently found out about. Although I have no
physical memory of it, it is the first time He touched me.

When I was born my pediatrician mixed up formula directions and I developed
diarrhea with blood. I had not regained my birth weight by the time I left
the hospital, in fact I had not regained my birth weight by my first
checkup. The doctor changed the formula to no avail, I continued to loose
weight and get worse. My mother said the only thing worse than a crying
baby was a baby that never cries.

Desperate for an answer my mother went to a different pediatrician. She was
Jewish and had been a doctor in Nazi Germany. This doctor told my mother not to
take me in public because I had no resistances and any small illness would
be catastrophic.

When I was a little over four months old a friend of my mothers came to
visit and she brought her child who had a stomach virus. Needless to say I
caught the virus. Once again  I developed diarrhea with blood, but this
time it was violent. My mother had called the pediatrician who advised her
to take me to the hospital.

By the time we reached the hospital I was wrinkled with dehydration and was
a gray color. The hospital would not admit me because my father was
unemployed and we had no insurance. The doctor gave my mother instructions
and sent her home.

She knew I was hovering close to death as she could feel no pulse, no heart
beat and see no signs of breathing. She said the only way she could tell I
was alive was if she wet her lips and held them under my nose that she
could feel the faintest breath. She rocked me and prayed all night. She
thought about having me baptized, but she thought that by having me
baptized then it would be like giving up and she was not ready to do that.

In the morning the pediatrician learned that I had not been admitted to the
hospital and was livid. But I seemed to be doing a little better so my
mother took me to the doctor’s office. I improved rapidly after that.

When I was four and a half months old and the pediatrician told my mother I
would be fine so my mother asked if she could take in public so I could be
baptized. The pediatrician immediately started to fuss at my mother and
told her to have me baptized right away, doctors orders.