Miracle

(C) Flying Pie

I was thirty-two when I earned

my second BSc in Math

with no clear plan in mind—

just another student loan,

first payment due in six months.

For the next three years,

I struggled just to stay afloat—

drifting through part-time gigs

and short-term contracts.

But finding a foothold in this country

always seemed just out of reach.

Now, at thirty-five,

things still weren’t going well.

As a last resort,

I enrolled in teacher’s college—

one more loan, one more hope,

one last door to try

before raising the white flag.

But debt was rising like a tide.

Third degree at thirty-six.

All summer long,

I tried, oh man, I tried—

casting my nets everywhere.

Applications sent far and wide,

all over Canada,

the United States,

even to the school boards

in remote northern regions.

Few answers.

Fewer callbacks.

Then silence.

Stress and anxiety hit me hard.

One bad lift at the gym,

my back snapped.

And soon,

I could barely walk three minutes

before pain stopped me.

And the bank account?

Below a thousand—

just like my spirit.

I couldn't sleep that night…

There I was—sitting alone

in my crumbling studio apartment

in downtown Toronto,

where cockroaches marched

and paint peeled.

I sat—quiet, still,

looking out the window,

catching the pale orange sky at dawn.

The sun rose, but I didn't.

Noon came.

I wasn't even hungry.

I dragged myself to the YMCA—

I don't know why.

There, on the indoor track,

I started to walk slowly,

took out my rosary,

and began to pray.

Walk.

Pause.

Breathe.

Walk again.

And I wept.

"Is this it, Lord?

All the effort, all the years—

to end like this?

I am broke.

I am lost.

I am alone—

ten thousand kilometres

away from home.

I can't even walk

more than three minutes.

What did I do wrong?

Have pity on me."

Then—I saw her.

Was it a vision, a dream,

or just a hallucination?

I can never tell.

But she was there.

In white and blue,

Our Lady, Blessed Virgin Mary,

was there, walking beside me.

Not saying a word,

just praying the novena with me.

I blinked in disbelief—

She was gone.

But I was still walking,

without pain—

not just for three minutes,

but thirty!

My pain had gone.

I burst into tears,

this time in awe... in gratitude.

In the weeks that followed,

my back healed.

Soon, I could run again.

A little miracle, I believe.

Amen.