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the Smell of rain.


David A

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One of my good friends sent this too me. David A

Subject: THE SMELL OF RAIN A cold March wind danced around the dead of night

in Dallas as the doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing.

She was still groggy from surgery. Her husband, David, held her hand as they

braced themselves for the latest news.

That afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had forced Diana, only

24-weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency Caesarean to deliver the couple's new

daughter, Dana Lu Blessing. At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound and

nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature. Still, the doctor's

soft words dropped like bombs. "I don't think she's going to make it," he said,

as kindly as he could. "There's only a

10-percent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some

slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one".

Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the

devastating problems Dana would likely face if she survived. She would never

walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would certainly

be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental

retardation, and on and on.

"No! No!" was all Diana could say. She and David, with their 5-year-old son

Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a

family of four. Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was slipping away.

Through the dark hours of morning as Dana held onto life by the thinnest thread,

Diana slipped in and out of sleep, growing more and more determined that their

tiny daughter would live and live to be a healthy, happy young girl.

But David, fully awake and listening to additional dire details of their

daughter's chances of ever leaving the hospital alive, much less healthy, knew

he must confront his wife with the inevitable. David walked in and said that we

needed to talk about making funeral arrangements.

Diana felt so bad for him because he was doing everything to try to include her

in what was going on, but she just wouldn't listen, She couldn't listen. She

said, "No, that is not going to happen, no way! I don't care what the doctors

say. Dana is not going to die! One day she will be just fine, and she will be

coming home with us!"

As if willed to live by Diana's determination, Dana clung to life hour after

hour, with the help of every medical machine and marvel her miniature body could

endure. But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana.

Because Dana's underdeveloped nervous system was essentially 'raw,' the lightest

kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort, so they couldn't even cradle

their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer the strength of their love.

All they could do, as Dana struggled alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the

tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would stay close to their

precious little girl. There was never a moment when Dana suddenly grew stronger.

But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an

ounce of strength there. At last, when Dana turned two months old, her parents

were able to hold her in their arms for the very first time.

And two months later, though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that

her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to

zero, Dana went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted.

Today, five years later, Dana is a petite but feisty young girl with glittering

gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life. She shows no signs whatsoever of

any mental or physical impairment. Simply, she is everything a little girl can

be and more. But that happy ending is far from the end of her story.

One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving, Texas,

Dana was sitting in her mother's lap in the bleachers of a local ball park where

her brother Dustin's baseball team was practicing. As always, Dana was

chattering nonstop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby when

she suddenly fell silent.

Hugging her arms across her chest, little Dana asked, "Do you smell that?"

Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied,

"Yes, it smells like rain."

Dana closed her eyes and again asked, "Do you smell that?"

Once again, her mother replied, "Yes, I think we're about to get wet. It smells

like rain."

Still caught in the moment, Dana shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with

her small hands and loudly announced, "No, it smells like Him. It smells like

God when you lay your head on His chest."

Tears blurred Diana's eyes as Dana happily hopped down to play with the other

children. Before the rains came, her daughter's words confirmed what Diana and

all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their

hearts, all along. During those long days and nights of her first two months of

her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was

holding Dana on His chest and it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.

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Wondeful story....It remind's me of one my grandmother told as her oldest daughter Elizabeth lay dieing from burn's she recieved when the wood stove flashed back on her.

Everyone including my mother and her 2 other sister's and the minister and doctor were in the room with her when just shortly to all this she had been in unbearable pain she suddenly sat up with the biggest grin grandma said you could imagine,and began talking in a very excited voice.

Grandma said she kept asking everyone if they could hear the beautiful music and singing.Finally grandma said she asked her who was singing and playing the beautiful music and she said the Angel's" can't you all see them and hear them.My grandmother told her no when all at once she started almost shouting oh mommy mommy he's here he's so beautiful.My Grandmother said she asked her who's here and with tear's coming down her face and a unmistakable glow on her face she said oh mommy it's Jesus and closed her eye's and died.

Larry

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David and Larry,

Both of these stories are so touching. Just when I finished wiping tears from David's story, I read Larry's story........more tears. Not tears of sorrow, but tears of joy.........joy that can only come from a loving, caring God who is with us all the time. As the children's prayer says.......God is great, God is good............

Thank you for these inspirational stories~~~~

Angie

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  • 5 weeks later...

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