A Treasury of Miracles for Women by Karen Kingsbury Read Free Book Online

toward the backseat and checked on Bonnie. The child was two-and-a-half with golden-red hair, green eyes,and fair skin. She slept as they drove and Lola resumed her position in the front seat, allowing herself to enjoy the drive.
    Not long afterward they arrived at the home of Jeffrey's parents, Jeffrey Sr. and Bonnie Randall.
    “Happy Easter!” the senior Randalls exclaimed as they met the young family in the driveway. “Couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day, now could we?”
    “Hey, Dad, good to see you,” Jeffrey said, climbing out of the car and stretching. “Mmmmm. I can smell Mom's cooking from here.”
    The group made its way into the house and settled into the family room. Lola found a chair near the corner of the room and glanced around. For more than a year after she and Jeffrey were married this had been their home. Jobs were scarce and there had been no way they could survive on their own. Especially with a newborn child. Even now, two years later, Lola was thankful that Jeffrey's parents had been so generous with their home. She loved them as if they were her own parents and she was glad they lived only an hour away.
    The others were deep in conversation and Lola looked across the room to where little Bonnie was playing with building blocks. This had been the child's first home and she was still very comfortable in it. Lola remembered bringing Bonnie home from the hospital and how thrilled she had been with the newness of motherhood. For the most part, Lola's memories of this house were happy ones.
    But there was one memory that always sent chills down Lola's spine. Bonnie had been just three weeks old and had shared a room with her parents. A curtain hung across a slim rod separating her crib from her parents' bed. One afternoon, the rod slipped for no apparent reason and shot down into Bonnie's crib, grazing her scalp and the un formed soft area of her skull.
    The baby had cried fiercely and Lola and Jeffrey had taken her to the hospital to be sure she hadn't suffered a se rious head injury. The doctor examined the slight bruise carefully and then stood up, shaking his head in amazement.
    “The rod was traveling very fast when it hit her,” he said. There was awe in his voice as he continued. “If it had hit her a fraction of an inch in either direction, it would have pierced the soft spot on her head and she'd be dead right now.”
    Lola had clutched the tiny infant girl closer to her chest and closed her eyes, muttering a prayer of thanks.
    “But she's okay?” Jeffrey had asked the doctor, his eyes full of concern.
    “Yes. She's fine. All I can say is the good Lord must be looking out for your little one.”
    The doctor's statement had proven true dozens of times since then but never as dramatically as that day when the curtain rod fell into Bonnie's crib. She was a healthy, active child and for the most part she stayed out of trouble.
    That Easter Sunday, as the day wore on, Lola joined her mother-in-law in the kitchen and helped with the dinner preparations while the men talked about the war and Bonnie played in the house. Hours passed uneventfully and after dinner, the family wandered into the front yard to enjoy the last bit of afternoon sunshine.
    The senior Randalls' backyard contained a man-made fishpond that was five feet by eight feet in diameter and four feet deep. A flagstone walkway surrounded the pond, which had rounded, sloping edges, and contained several brightly colored, oversized goldfish. The pond was a fa vorite for young Bonnie, but she knew better than to play near it. Bonnie did not know how to swim and for that rea son the fishpond was especially dangerous. There was no way for a child Bonnie's age to climb out of the pond if she ever fell in. Even if she could somehow swim to the side of the pond, the wide, rounded edges would prohibit her from grasping the side and holding on until help arrived.
    “You can watch the fish swim,” Lola and Jeffrey had warned on a