The NICU pediatric specialist tells the parents. There is very little hope. Be prepared for the worst. The mother and her husband contact a funeral director about a burial plot. They had fixed up a special room in their home for the new baby; now they plan a funeral. Their three year Michael keeps begging his parents to let him see his sister. Before the delivery, this little one would sing to his sister in Mommy’s tummy. He would sing the only song he knew. "You are my sunshine." He sing it day after day, night after night. Now he pleads to sing it to her again.Week two in intensive care: it looks as if a funeral will come before the week is over. Michael keeps nagging his parents about singing to his sister, but children are not allowed in the NICU. Finally, this mother makes up her mind. She will take Michael to the hospital whether they like it or not, figuring that if he doesn’t see his sister now, he may never see her alive. So she dresses Michael in an oversized scrub suit and marches him over to the NICU. He look like E.T. but the unit secretary spots him as a child and scolds the mother: "Get your kid out of here." The mother instinct rises to the surface and even tempered mom glares steely into that secretary’s face, her lips are firm. He is NOT leaving until he sings to his sister! Mom tows Michael to his sister’s unit. An understanding nurse assigned to his little sister finds a stool and helps Michael gaze into the incubator and he begins to sing. In the purhearted voice of a three-year-old, Michael sings: "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray..."
Instantly, the baby girl responds. Her pulse rate on the monitor 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 baby’s ragged, strained breathing becomes smooth as a kitten’s purr. Keep on singing, Michael. "The other night dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamt I held you in my arms..." Michael’s little sister relaxes as rest–healing rest–seems to sweep over her. Keep on singing Michael, tears comes streaming down the nurse. Mother glows. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine... Please don’t take my sunshine away."
Funeral plans were scrapped. The next day –the very next day–the little girl is well enough to go home!
Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who struggle with the trust it takes to believe You can take these fragile bodies and make them well again. Restore our memories, and as we gaze upon the "strips of linen" and "burial cloth" help us remember Your words: "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me." I will not leave you orphans, I will come to you." Believe that Love is stronger than death. If a little boy can sing "You are my sunshine," why can’t God say: Take away the stone? See how He loves you.
