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Published on: 1/29/2006
Last Visited: 3/28/2009
They found out that the new baby was going to be a girl, and day after day, night after night, Michael sang to his sister in Mommy's tummy.
...
Michael kept begging his parents to let him see his sister, "I want to sing to her," he said.
Week two in intensive care.
It looked as if a funeral would come before the week was over.
Michael kept nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are not allowed in Intensive Care.
But, Karen makes up her mind.
She would take Michael whether they liked it or not.
If he didn't see his sister now, he may never see her alive.
She dresses him in an oversized scrub suit and marches him into ICU.
He looks like a walking laundry basket, but the head nurse recognizes him as a child and bellows, "Get that kid out of here now!
No children are allowed in ICU.
The mother rises up strong in Karen, and the usually mild-mannered lady glares steel-eyed into the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line.
"He is not leaving until he sings to his sister!"
Karen tows Michael to his sister's bedside.
He gazes at the tiny infant losing the battle to live.
And he begins to sing.
In the pure-hearted voice of a 3-year-old, Michael sings: "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray . . ."
Instantly the baby girl responds.
The pulse rate becomes calm and steady.
Keep on singing, Michael.
"You never know, dear, how much I love you, Please don't take my sunshine away"
The ragged, strained breathing becomes as smooth as a kitten's purr.
Keep on singing, Michael.
"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms..."
Michael's little sister relaxes as rest, healing rest, seems to sweep over her.
Keep on singing, Michael.
...
Dr. Denice Moffat & Michael Robison (Water Treatment Consultant & Personologist )