Both boys were sick.  Colds had settled in their chests giving them nasty coughs that kept them awake at night.  It was time to get them in to see the doctor.  It was a Saturday morning .  Surprisingly the doctor’s office was pretty quiet.   They didn’t have to wait too long.

After examining each boy, ages 5 and 2, the doctor determined that the younger needed a nebulizer treatment right there in the office.  It would ease his breathing and loosen the cough.  As Nana, it was her job to take the older grandson out and wait while Mommy helped to administer the treatment.

Now the boys had been excellent while the doctor examined them.  The only time Greg had lost his composure was when the doctor needed to collect a little blood with a finger prick.  Mark, who continued to watch his brother like a hawk, saw Greg start to cry, so he too began to cry when it was his turn for finger treatment.  And he cried even more as the nurse brought the equipment in for his breathing therapy.  Greg and Nana left the room watching Mommy struggle to settle Mark for his treatment and hearing the wailing of little brother.

Waiting can be hard.  Especially if you don’t understand all that’s happened.

“Nana, why did the doctor put a pin in my finger? It hurts.”  He held his bandaged finger up for inspection.  It accepted a Nana kiss.

“Well, the doctor wanted to check your blood for germs and oxygen level.”

A muted “Oooooh” sounded from his mouth as they heard again the crying from the inner room.

“You know, Greg, let’s do prayer hands right now and pray for Mark.”  Right there in the waiting room of the urgent care Nana and Greg prayed for Little Mark to be able to receive his treatment and not be so scared.

Old wrinkled hands joined with young firm ones to talk with God for a moment.

And then they just sat, listening.  The crying had stopped.

Within a minute Nana’s phone rang.  It was Mommy asking them to return to the room.

They found Mark administering the nebulizer treatment to himself, smiling at his older brother.

Opportunities to model our faith are just waiting to be used.  No words had to be said.

Greg and Nana knew that God had heard their prayer.

–by Marty Coletta