Hey God, It’s Me, Tony

Hey God, It’s Me, Tony

I was volunteering as a sort of surrogate grandpa for abused and neglected kids in California. We “grandparents” lived in our own separate quarters on the village grounds. It was heartbreaking working with kids who had seen much tragedy in their young lives but there were times when it all seemed worthwhile.
Ten-year-old “Tony” dropped in on me just after I had received news that my older brother from back East was at death’s door. I’m sure the anxiety showed on my face when Tony paid his visit. “Grandpa Hank, what’s the matter? he asked me.
“Tony,” I explained. “I just got very sad news about my older brother. My sister called me and said he is very sick and may not live through the night.
The little boy sat down; his eyes showing his empathy. “What can I do to help? “he asked. “Nothing much anyone can do,” I replied. “I guess if you wanted to say a prayer for him that would help.” The boy sprang to his feet. “Do you mean NOW?”
I really wasn’t expecting such quick action but I answered, “Sure, You can talk to God anytime”. Tony was a man of action. He went outside on my front patio and lifting his eyes and arms heaven-wards, here are the words the little guy was sending up to heaven.
“Hey God, it’s me, Tony. Grandpa Hank’s brother is really sick; He might die.. Could you help him get better?” Then after a short pause, he continued. “I’d sure appreciate any help you can give him.”
Tony came back inside and he had a smile on his face. “Grandpa Hank, there were some construction guys working on your street and they probably thought I was a little weird praying out loud like that. But I didn’t care. Heck, I wasn’t talking to them anyway. I was talking to God.”
Well I thanked him, of course, and then, looking him straight in the eyes, I said to him. “Tony, I asked you to pray for my brother because you know what? God has a special place in his heart for children. That’s just the way he is. I think that when a kid prays to God, God will answer him.”
So the little guy left with his parting words “Don’t worry Grandpa Hank. Your brother will be OK.” I felt that I was in the presence of someone very special on that day. I can’t begin to claim I know the mind of God. Whether a miracle of curing took place on that day, I don’t know.
I do believe from the depths of my heart that the creator of the universe does listen to the prayers of children and that, in itself, is miracle enough for me.
PS. My brother did recover and now, five years later, is still doing well…