I Believe In Miracles

... Christmas Eve of 1967 I received the first outright miracle that I remember. I was nine years old.

I lived on a farm in western Oklahoma in a tiny frame house of about 700 square feet. It had two bedrooms, a kitchen, living room, and a small added on utility and bathroom, equally tiny.

Being an only child in a very dysfunctional home, I often felt isolated. My father was an alcoholic, and he and my mother fought continually. It provided, at best, a very tense home life. My mother’s distress over issues with my father, our poverty, and life in general caused her to be unhappy and short-tempered...