On my birthday, I woke up knowing the day was going to be
special. Today was also the day of my softball tryouts so I put on my
cleats and other clothes. While I was brushing my hair, the phone rang.
My dad answered. "How do I feel?" he asked into the phone.
"Oh, fair to partly cloudy."
I smiled. Then I heard my dad say, "Seriously? I feel okay."
There was a pause. "Oh, okay . . .thanks . . . bye."
My dad saw me staring at him. He said, "Everyone, I'm . . ."
"What dear?" my mom asked, sticking her head out of the bathroom
door.
"I'm . . . I'm on alert," Dad said.
"WHAT!" my mom shouted.
"WHAT!" I echoed.
"What's 'alert'?" my brother Andrew asked.
"It means I might get my kidney," my dad explained.
Small sobs were coming from the bathroom, while my dad soothed
my mom.
I was speechless. I realized that ever since Dad made his
announcement I had been holding my breath. My breath came out in a
loud, "Whoosh"!
My mom came out of the bathroom, her face stained with tears.
The hospital called back about 15 minutes later and said it was
definite. My dad would get his transplant.
I went on to tryouts, then to a friend's house to await more
news of my dad. Then the call came.
My dad was now in intensive care and the kidney was a perfect
match. It truly was a miracle.
(c) 1994 Martha Elizabeth Stauffer
This story took place on Martha's 10th birthday. -- Dad
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