I have taken many, many tests, more than all your spelling tests combined.” “I have been in and out of hospitals more times than I can remember. “Keep going.”īa-ba took a sip of water, cleared his throat, and projected to the audience of muted TV news anchors on the wall. We’re at the last part.” I placed my hand on Ba-ba’s hospital-white bed. He listed his low-hope moments when he lost all his hair from chemotherapy when I was four, and also mentioned the two times when I was six that he almost died because he couldn’t stop vomiting. I knew every word of his speech and still got embarrassed when he mentioned me. Her music has always been able to lift me in spirit.” Some days, I will be reminded by my daughter and her beautiful violin. “Some days,” Ba-ba continued, “it takes more than mental strength to keep me hopeful. Mom sighed and took her phone out as she went into the bathroom. Just five more minutes.” Ba-ba was only partway through his speech. “We should go for dinner in the cafeteria.” “Amie.” Mom popped into the room and closed the door, shutting out the chatter of nurses. And he did all of it while ignoring the blips on his monitors. He even made it through his favorite Emily Dickinson poem, about the bird braving the storm and wind and sea, but always surviving.

No mixed-up r’s and l’s, or switching he and she, or having his halting rhythm. He didn’t make any more mistakes, not for ten whole minutes. But the strains of his prelude didn’t mess up the next run-through. He blew out a breath and started over, like a frustrated orchestra conductor. But even though I have had the lifetime of-” The fluorescent lights from overhead glared through his thinning hair. I was sitting beside him in a padded pink chair. But he’d gotten a fever the night before and had been in the hospital for four days now. He wanted to thank everyone in person, so my school had scheduled a visit. Near the beginning of the year, in early August, my school held a one-mile walk/run fundraiser and donated the money to the National Foundation for Cancer Research in Ba-ba’s honor.

“I want to talk to you today about the hope,” Ba-ba said, pretending he was speaking to a large crowd of elementary school students and teachers. But sometimes I had a deep-down feeling that Ba-ba was the actual miracle. Most of the time, I felt like a miracle because I could figure out Ba-ba’s mood and help him feel better. His doctor had said it was impossible for him and Mom to have children due to his cancer treatments.

Miracle by Karen S. Chow