A Miracle For Mom

In January of 1998, three weeks after my nephew was born, my grandfather died in his bed. A few weeks after the funeral, my mother decided to go back to work. Everything seemed to be going okay and getting back to normal. Then there was a grease fire in our kitchen that destroyed the stove, the walls, and the cabinets. Soon after the fire, my mother started getting notices from the city about the condition of our home, which had officially become my mother’s property. In order to keep from having to pay outrageous fines, my mother took out a mortgage loan on our home so that it could be remodeled, inside and out. When it was done, things appeared to be going well. Our home was beautifully redone and it felt good just to come home from school like I did every day of my life.
Then in early 1999 my mother was diagnosed with end-stage renal failure. Around the same time, she started getting letters from a ministry, claiming that they had visions of her and that Jesus sent them to help her. My mother didn’t pay much attention to the letters and usually discarded them. However, the letters kept coming seemingly every week.
But then in the summer of that same year, we found out that we were being evicted from our home. Unable to work because of her kidney failure, my mother fell behind on the mortgage payments. The same week we were notified about our eviction, another letter arrived from the ministry. This one, my mother decided to keep. She read the letter, followed the instructions, and sent a small donation. I guess she figured that it couldn’t make matters any worse.
A couple of weeks passed and we spent most of that time looking for an apartment, but most places wanted more than we could afford for a security deposit. Facing homelessness, my mother made plans to put our things in storage until we could find a place to live.
The day before our last day in our home, and while my mother was in the hospital with the first complications of her illness, we received a check in the mail for over three thousand dollars. It was enough for a security deposit and a couple months’ rent on a two-bedroom apartment in the same quiet neighborhood I grew up in. My mother still gets letters from that mysterious ministry and sends donations whenever possible. However, to this very day almost six years later, we still don’t know where the check came from, much less from whom.