Todays Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul

[Guest guest]

The Miracle of My Sister's Laughing

By Deborah Hedstrom-Page

Some of the lowest days of my life came shortly after my husband's

death.

While still grieving, I came face to face with the reality of raising our

four

children alone. The funeral was over, friends and family gone. It was the

kids

and I, each of us grieving as our ages and personalities allowed. One son

angry, the other quiet; one daughter demanding, the other mothering. And

somehow I was supposed to deal with it all. I was supposed to give the sole

direction, the lone understanding and single wise responses.

While at the bottom of this inadequacy well, my sister arrived. She'd

planned it that way, saving her visit until everyone else had left. Within

hours, the closeness we had shared in the past came flooding back. She let

me

talk and cry but also helped me begin doing things. We got my kids returned

to

school, and then started tackling projects. We started with my closet since

its

half emptiness constantly reminded me of my now-gone husband. We decided to

install a closet organizer, so I could add my sweaters and other clothes to

fill

it up.

Things didn't go well. While she held one end, I'd try to install and

hammer the other. Nothing fit. As we improvised, things got worse. Then

in

the midst of our frustration, I noticed the picture on the organizer's box.

A

two-dimensional woman smiled back from it while she single-handedly

installed

what my sister and I were failing to do. While still holding up my end, I

said,

" Hey Jeanne, look at that picture. I wish! "

She took one look at the woman and said, " Yeah, right. She's even

wearing

a dress. " That's when it happened. Somehow the whole situation turned into

a

joke.

Every fumble we made, every board that slipped, every screw that

refused to

twist brought us back to the perfect lady on the box and made us laugh. We

laughed until the tears came. We laughed until we had to drop the organizer

and

run for the bathroom.

It was the first time I'd laughed in weeks.

That laughter happened fifteen years ago, yet I remember it as if it

happened yesterday. It changed nothing, yet it changed everything. My kids

were still grieving. I was still hurting, overwhelmed and inadequate. But

when

I hugged my sister good-bye, I knew God had used her to give me a miracle.

For

in the hard months following her departure, on my worst days, I inevitably

opened my closet and spotted my slightly tilting organizer. No matter how I

felt, I just couldn't help smiling.