“Yes,” I said, “and some who do not love Him as well as you do. He has helped me—when I did not deserve it.”
She gazed a moment in wonder.
“I don’t mean indirectly?”
“Directly!” I said.
“But you surely do not believe in”—she halted, ashamed of the ancient word for an instant, then bravely put it at me—“miracles”?
“I have seen miracles.”
And I told her of some that I had seen.
Do you suppose that I would cast a shadow of doubt upon so precious a heritage? A believer in miracles! I thanked God after I had heard the end of her story that I need not. Don’t you believe in miracles? Don’t we all constantly expect the impossible? And if we do not believe in miracles, how can we expect that? And doesn’t the impossible often happen? Well then!
“I wouldn’t like to tell you if you would laugh.”
“I am more likely to cry,” I said.