Anna's Healing (33 page)

“They are fine,” Teri assured her. “Your bishop called and told me no one had crossed the police barrier, and he hoped the size of the crowd would diminish by tomorrow.”

“Either way, we're going home in the morning. It's where I'm supposed to be right now.”

They all considered Anna's words for a moment, and then Chloe turned to her mother. “When we first arrived, you said that the answer to why folks are flocking to Anna was complicated. What did you mean by that?”

Instead of responding, Teri stood, walked across the room and popped a decaffeinated tea pod into the Keurig machine. After asking if anyone else would like a hot drink, she rejoined them at the table.

“Many people are looking for a miracle. We don't know exactly what happened to Anna, but we do know that it was beyond the simple explanation of an injury in her back recovering over time. I'm not giving my opinion there. The fact that you can walk supports that a miraculous healing took place. I don't think there's any doubt that this is the hand of God working in your life.”

Anna nodded, Jacob broke his cookie into little pieces, and Chloe studied her mother.

Finally Chloe said, “I agree with you, but not everyone out there does. Not everyone is a Christian or even religious.”

“True, but almost everyone is searching at some point in their life for answers to specific needs. And when they're hurting? Or when someone they love is hurting? They often look to God, whatever they know about Him, for help. It's natural that once they hear about Anna, they would be consumed with hope that the same thing could happen to them.”

“Consumed is a good word.” Jacob frowned at the table. “The people surrounding the hospital were completely irrational.”

“Some people have been living without hope for so long that when they finally have a glimpse of it they lose all sense of reason.”

No one spoke as Teri seemed to gather her thoughts. Then she glanced up at them as she clasped her hands around her cup of hot tea.

“I suppose I know a little of what they're going through. Chloe's father had what is called a ‘dread disease'—multiple sclerosis.” She glanced at Anna and Jacob, who each nodded their head acknowledging they had heard of it.

“The majority of people with MS have a dormant type, which is not too debilitating as long as they stay on their medication. However, Gus…” She spread her hands out in a who-knows-why gesture. “My husband had the more active form. He didn't present with MS until he was in his fifties, and then it progressed rather rapidly. Within five years, he couldn't walk.”

“I was in college when you first found out.” Chloe hadn't thought about that phone call in many years. It had tilted her world. Her father had always been the rock solid center of her life.

“Those years were difficult.” Now Teri sipped her tea and smiled over the rim of the cup. “I prayed for a miracle many times, but we didn't receive one. I don't know why. I still believe that God does at certain times work in miraculous ways, but that wasn't His will for Gus.”

Chloe reached over and hugged her mom. Anna and Jacob looked on sympathetically.

“I bring it up now because I certainly can understand how people feel when they hear about you, Anna. Some will be hopeful. And others? They will probably remain bitter.”

“Why?” Jacob asked.

“It seems to me that when you're going through a terrible illness or accident or disease, you sometimes feel isolated. You feel as if no one understands what you're dealing with, and sometimes you become certain that no one cares.”

“I'm sorry, Mom. I should have been there for you. I should have visited more—”

Teri reached out and stopped her daughter's protests with a touch of her hand. “Many people were there for me, and you did the best you could. I can see that now. But at the time? I often felt alone, and yes—a little bitter. I'm not proud of that.”

“I think I understand how hard it might have been, but why were you bitter?” Jacob popped a cookie crumb into his mouth.

“Maybe because everyone else goes on with a normal life.” Anna cocked her head to the side as she gazed across the table at Teri. “In my case, when I first became a paraplegic, I was stunned and angry that my
life had been irrevocably changed. And I mourned because my dreams had died in front of my eyes. I think I understand bitterness.”

“All of those were also true in my case. And when I'd hear of or meet someone else with MS, someone who was doing well, I would be filled with so many questions. Why was Gus wheelchair bound? Why did he have the worst form of such a terrible disease? What had we done wrong to deserve such a thing?” Teri shook her head. “I understand now that I was asking all the wrong questions.”

“What do you mean?” Chloe asked.

“I should have been asking what God intended for us to do. What did He want us to learn? How had He planned to bless us through our circumstances? How could I reach out to others?” She nodded toward the other side of the house, where her sewing room was located. “I began quilting in earnest the last year your father was alive. I'd played with it before, but suddenly it was an escape for me. It was a way to broaden my world again—a world that had become very small.”

“I felt the same way the first time I came here.” Anna smiled at the memory. “Looking at what you were doing helped me to envision something besides my own problems.”

“The year I began sewing for Project Linus, I'd taken early retirement from teaching. Although there was plenty to do caring for Chloe's father, I needed something else to focus my mind on—so I quilted more than ever before, and I looked for organizations I could donate to. Gus was proud of my work, and I'd often go in and sew while he rested. Those were special times we shared. Now I'm grateful for the years, and the time, we had together.”

“The quilting brought a little sunshine into my world, and the fact that I could help someone else who was hurting… well, it gave my days a purpose again.” Anna rested her elbows on top of the table and propped her head in her hands. “But now that my life has changed again, I'm not sure how I can help those who are hurting. I plan to continue quilting, but I also want to reach out to the people who are waiting outside my
onkel
's and
aenti
's. I am certain that
Gotte
's hand is in this.”

Those words echoed through Chloe's mind as they helped to clean the kitchen. They spent the afternoon reading, taking a walk in Teri's garden, and then playing Monopoly while they ate pizza that Teri ordered. By nine o'clock, everyone was yawning and the girls conceded the Monopoly win to Jacob.

Teri tucked sheets and blankets on the couch for Jacob and showed Anna to the guest room. Everyone prepared for bed, finding toothbrushes and taking showers, though Anna and Jacob didn't have an additional set of clothes. Chloe offered Anna a dress for the next day, but she shook her head and smiled. She did accept a pair of pajamas from Teri to sleep in.

When everyone had settled down for the night, Chloe crept out to the kitchen table, opened her laptop, and began to write the story that was due to Eric before midnight.

CHAPTER 50

T
he house was quiet. Peaceful, even.

But the questions spinning through Chloe's mind made a racket louder than a train passing through a silent night.

She glanced over her notes, the ones she had taken at Anna's house. She added her own reactions to seeing Anna, for the first time, standing by the window in the living room. It might not go into her report, in which she thought she should maintain an objective tone, but she wanted a record of those first reactions. It helped to crystallize her thoughts about the morning.

She added all that had happened that day—making their way through the crowd, being followed not once but twice, and the experience in Dr. Hartman's office. Again, she wasn't sure how much of that she would include, but she was sure she needed to document the entire experience while the memories were fresh in her mind.

Chloe's fingers paused over the keyboard, and the gravity of her task caused her to freeze. She was going to report on a miracle? She was going to describe to the world this impossible thing that had happened? How? What words would she use? How could she possibly explain what she'd witnessed?

She didn't know, but she did know that she wanted to give a different perspective than what was being offered on the major news networks.

She opened an Internet window and typed in
Anna Schwartz
and
miracle
. Only three words, but she suddenly found herself staring at thousands of hits. There were news reports, blogs, a live Facebook chat, images, and YouTube videos. There were also thousands of Tweets with the hashtag “Anna-Schwartz-healing.”

She began clicking through the results quickly. In most cases the headings were enough to tell her the general gist of the piece. Basically, the reports seemed to fall into four categories. The first was the worst, most sensational, which adamantly denied any such thing as a miracle could take place and assigned ulterior motives to Anna and her family.

Miracle or Child Abuse?

Amish Girl Paraded Before Press

Miracle—Another Day, Another Scam

Miracle Myth

Miracles—the New Amish Industry

Miracle Exposed

Secret Story—Amish Miracle Explained

These headlines sickened Chloe. Not only were they way off base, but they were mean. The writers weren't reporting at all. Instead, they took the approach of dismissing what they considered a ludicrous idea before any actual investigating had been done. She remembered her mother talking about bitterness and wondered if these were the people she was referring to. When would their attention turn away from Anna?

The second type of headline was more what she would have expected. Reporters sent to cover something they had no way to gain actual information on, so instead they reiterated the questions people were asking.

Miracle Healing?

Miracle or Not? You Decide

Proof of God?

An Amish Miracle?

Miracle in Cody's Creek?

Chloe related well to these reporters. If someone had told her when she'd awakened that morning that before the clock turned to a new day she'd be reporting on a miracle, she wouldn't have believed them.
She would have probably laughed. Twenty-four hours ago, she didn't believe in miracles. She was willing to admit that to herself. What did that say of her faith? There were miracles in the Bible, but she simply hadn't thought they were still possible. She hadn't thought God was that big. No, that wasn't right. She hadn't thought He was that involved in His creation.

The third type of headline was almost worse than the first. These were people trying to capitalize on what was happening.

Miracle Berries Found in Oklahoma

DIY Miracle—Follow Anna's Simple Steps

Miracle Healing Power Revealed

Holy Water from Cody's Creek

The list of articles went on for pages. She sat back, stunned. How could people claim such things? She'd been reporting a long time, and she understood that often there was someone trying to make a buck off a big story. This seemed to go beyond that. She had a feeling that these people had a well-oiled operation. Clicking on one that looked promising, she found that she could order a packet of “Miracle Berries” that had been harvested there in Cody's Creek. Very few berries grew in their area, and she was certain none were ready for harvest. Whatever these folks were selling, they basically slapped a new label on it to match the headline. She could even use her Paypal account to purchase the items.

How could she counter such sensational reporting? How could she present the truth of what had happened to her friend? Especially in light of the fact that she didn't understand it? Going back to her search results, she began narrowing her search terms and—on a hunch—she took out the words
Anna Schwartz
. She found herself looking at a much smaller list, this time of past miracles.

One was of a boy in Colorado, healed of a debilitating virus after being prayed over by two nuns.

Another spoke of the Pope, and how through him, God had healed an unborn child. In fact, a good number of the purported miracles were investigated in some way by the Catholic church. “The healing is not considered a certified miracle until it is approved by a team of
theologians and the current Pope. But the most difficult step in this process is usually the recognition from the medical commission.”

At least Anna's community of believers would require no such thing. She had a feeling the Amish community would continue on much as it had before, unfazed by the events or the attention. But perhaps she was wrong there. A miracle was a rare occurrence, regardless of your denominational beliefs.

Another headline claimed that a priest had shown up at a horrific auto accident before mysteriously vanishing. A miracle? An angel? Chloe investigated that one a bit further and found that a parish priest had stepped forward and explained that he'd been in the area, prayed over the people in the accident, and then he had quietly slipped away. Not a miracle.