In the quiet town of Willowbrook, where winter arrived with a soft blanket of snow, lived a little girl named Lily. Lily was unlike other children her age; she spent most of her days in the hospital, battling a serious illness that had weakened her tiny frame. Her parents, Sarah and Michael, did everything they could to keep her spirits up, but the worry etched deep lines on their faces. As the first snowflakes began to fall one chilly December morning, Lily pressed her small face against the hospital window, her breath fogging the glass. She loved snow—the way it turned the world into a magical wonderland, even if she could only watch it from afar. Sarah sat by Lily's bedside, gently brushing the hair from her daughter's forehead. “Look, Lily,” she whispered, “it's snowing.” Lily's eyes sparkled with delight. “Mommy, can I make a wish on the snow?” Sarah smiled, her heart aching with love and sadness. “Of course, sweetheart. What would you wish for?” Lily thought for a moment, her gaze fixed on the swirling snowflakes outside. “I wish... I wish to go home and play in the snow with you and Daddy.” Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes. She hugged Lily tightly, whispering promises of snowball fights and sleigh rides once she was better. But deep down, Sarah feared they might never leave the hospital. That night, as Sarah and Michael sat by Lily's bedside, the snow continued to fall outside, covering Willowbrook in a silent white blanket. Lily drifted off to sleep, her small hand clutching a snowflake-shaped charm Sarah had brought her earlier that day. In the early hours of the morning, something miraculous happened. Lily's fever broke, and her breathing steadied. Sarah woke with a start, noticing the change in her daughter's condition. She called for the nurse, who rushed in, amazed at the sudden improvement. “We need to run some tests, but this looks promising,” the nurse said, her voice filled with cautious hope. Throughout the day, Lily grew stronger. She ate a little more, her laughter ringing through the hospital room like a tiny bell. Sarah and Michael couldn't believe their eyes—their daughter, who had been so frail just hours ago, was now sitting up in bed, playing with her favorite stuffed animal. “It's a miracle,” Michael whispered, his voice choked with emotion. As the days passed, Lily continued to improve. The doctors were baffled but overjoyed. They ran tests and consulted specialists, but no medical explanation could account for Lily's sudden recovery. One evening, as Sarah and Michael sat by Lily's bedside, the doctor came in with a smile on her face. “I don't know how to explain this,” she began, “but Lily's illness seems to have gone into remission. Her body is responding as if... as if it's healing itself.” Sarah and Michael exchanged tearful glances. They knew in their hearts what had happened—the miracle of the first snow had granted Lily's wish. When Lily was finally discharged from the hospital, the town of Willowbrook celebrated her return with a joyous parade. Lily rode in a decorated sleigh, waving to the townspeople who had prayed for her recovery. Snowflakes fell gently from the sky, a reminder of the miracle that had brought their little girl back to them. Years passed, and Lily grew strong and healthy. Every winter, on the anniversary of that miraculous day, Sarah and Michael would take Lily to the hospital to visit the children who still waited for their own miracles. Lily would sit by their bedsides, holding their hands and whispering stories of snowflakes and wishes. And in the heart of Willowbrook, the miracle of the first snow lived on—a story of hope, love, and the power of a child's pure-hearted wish.

To Biopage contest THE PURPLE BIKE By Penny Robichaux-Koontz As told to H L Ford I had just taken over a condemned property in Texas, a homeless shelter in a rural area, pitch-black at night except for the light from a lonely, passing train. I had 42 youngsters and 30 adults staying with me in our shelter and no money. The only ornaments for the tree were those I had collected for my own children over the years until this year, 1991. As we were putting the tree up, the children were grumbling. “Miss Penny, how is Santa ever gonna find us out here in the dark?” I encouraged them to sing carols loudly when we heard a knock at the door. There stood the jolly old elf himself, Santa, in full red velvet and white fur trim. The children's eyes widened. I could have heard a snowflake drop. Santa leaned over to whisper, “I'm on my way to a Christmas party and heard you may need a Santa tonight.” “Thanks,” I answered in grateful amazement. He took a seat and talked with the children. Then, laying a finger aside of his nose, up the chimney he did not go but left through the door leaving big smiles behind him. I was delighted; however, as they shared the excitement of Santa's visit, to my dismay, I learned each child had asked Santa for a bike. Suddenly, the magic was gone and the reality of needing 42 bicycles settled on me. “How Lord, will I ever get that many bikes when just getting enough food is stretching my faith?” Articles appeared in the local paper, and people began to visit our shelter. They brought sweatshirts, warm clothing, blankets, and supplies. The word about our needs spread throughout the community. And yes! The bikes also started coming. We stored them in the secret workshop, where we assembled the new bikes at night while the children slept. Christmas morning came and the paper and ribbon flew amid laughter, singing, and a few tears of joy. And oh, the bikes…bikes everywhere! Emotionally spent and tired from playing Santa's helper all night, I headed outdoors to go to my room when I heard a child running behind me, calling “Miss Penny, Miss Penny!" Cedric, a precious little five-year-old boy caught up, his cheeks streaked with tears. I got down on my knees. “Why are you crying, honey?” “Miss Penny, I didn't git me no bike!” Dismayed, I thought, how could we have been off by one bike?! Thinking quickly, I said, “Cedric, did you ask Jesus for a bike?” “No, Miss Penny. I asked Santa Claus.” “Well, that explains it,” I said. “Santa is only a one- Day-a-year wonder. But Jesus, He is our Gift from heaven and He is also our gift-giver, not just one time a year, but today and every day. He loves you and hears you when you pray. You know He is the reason we celebrate this day, so let's talk to Him." With that, Cedric made quite a noisy plea to Jesus for a purple bike someday soon. “Amen!” Struggling to get up off my knees, I saw a pickup truck coming up the dirt drive toward us. The driver pulled to a halt, throwing Texas dust all around. “Are you Miss Penny?” he asked, stepping out of the cab. “That's me,” I said, “Can I help you?” “I'm sorry to be so late. My wife and I planned to be here yesterday,” he said while lifting a bike out of the truck bed. He placed a purple two-wheeler on the drive right in front of Cedric, whose eyes widened with amazement. “Hope you can use a bike like this. Sorry, I was late,” he grinned. I never got the name of that man. A great woman of faith that I am, I stood there speechless as I watched God make Himself absolutely real to a very excited little boy. That moment is as fresh in my heart and mind today as it was that 1991 Christmas. I had only been out of the wheelchair a short time then and had wanted to say "thank you, Lord" for healing my body from the paralysis of childhood polio. From that moment I was on my way to faith adventures with thousands more children over the years who came and went from Jacob's House a home for children in need of rescue. Like little Cedric, I was also on my way to many more miracles as I watched these children grow. Penny Roubichaus-Koontz has now retired from ministering at Jacob's House, but she never tires of sharing her faith, her joy, and her stories of God's children.

Introduction The corona virus has influenced everyone, and this is the story of how I took on the virus head on and won. I am an essential grocery store worker, and I have been working just about everyday since the pandemic bean. People must eat to survive and keep the economy going so I must constantly work. This is the full story of how I conquered my fear of death and the corona virus. The Miracle That Saved My Life By the Grace of God, a miracle has changed my life from certain death, to a life of victory and courage. Some truly miraculous stories have emerged from the pandemic, and this is my story. I am a cashier at the Wilkes-Barre Pennsylvania Price Chopper Supermarket and I am living through a miracle at the store. When the pandemic hit in March 2020. our sales volume and my work hours skyrocketed. As a senior citizen, I was sure the pandemic would kill me as hundreds of customers were breathing on me and in the beginning, there were no masks or protection. It is a miracle that after all this time, I have not been infected with the corona virus, and my teammates and customers are experiencing the same miracle. Only one of my teammates got the corona virus and he got it at home from his family. I do not believe any of our thousands of customers got the virus at the store. We have experienced maximum exposure and risk and yet miraculously no one has been infected with the corona virus while in the store! Price Chopper never closed up and we never had an outbreak or even a single store relate infection! Essential Workers Grocery store workers were classified as essential workers during the pandemic. The U. S. Department of Homeland Security categorized the protection and continued operation of the food and agricultural industry and related transportation activities as "Critical Infrastructure" under the COVID-19 emergence conditions. In the President's Corona Virus Guidelines for America, the White House emphasizes that food industry sector workers should continue to work and stated: "If you work in a critical infrastructure industry, as defined by the Department of Homeland Security, such as food supply, you have a special responsibility to maintain your normal work schedule." Price Chopper provided a letter so I could travel during the economic shut down. The letter stated that I work in the supermarket industry and must travel to and from work, regardless of the time of day. It is essential to the nation's food supply that I be permitted to travel to and from my job and be exempt from local restrictions, such as shelter-in-place orders, when reporting to, returning from, or performing any of my work functions. My Decision To Keep Working As a senior citizen I could have refused to work because of the obvious health risks. I decided to keep working, and I learned to overcome my fear of death during the Corona Virus Pandemic. When the pandemic hit, I came face to face with my fear of death, and I had some important decisions to make. I trust in Jesus Christ for my Salvation, so it was logical that I would keep working. In the beginning, it was very dangerous, as there were no protections and hundreds of customers were breathing on me. I was sure that I would get the virus and it would kill me. The supermarket I work for was determined to serve its customers and community. I shared my employers objectives and decided to continue working on the Front Lines. It was the right decision, as I have not been infected with the virus and none of my teammates or customers got the virus at the store! While so many institutions have suffered through outbreaks of the pandemic, we have not. As a senior citizen, I believe I should take the risks before my younger teammates, those with health issues or children, and those who are victims of discrimination. Moreover, I wanted to serve my customers, and I was willing to die for a legacy and a testimony of serving my customers, the people I love. I was really surprised that when I made this decision, I was free from my natural fear of death and willing to accept the consequences of my decision. I am taking the same risks even today. Cautious But Not Fearful I am amazed at my teammates courage in facing the pandemic, as they proceed cautiously but without fear. My teammates continued commitment to safety guidelines is the best defense against the corona virus. Conclusion A miracle is a surprising and welcome event that is not explicable and is therefore considered to be the work of a divine agency. There is no scientific explanation for Price Chopper's success while staying open for business during the pandemic. The store served its customers and community, and by the Grace Of God, its teammates were given the miracle of good health while working in dangerous circumstances environment. For the latest on fighting COVID 19, please watch the following video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1I_cCsaomU

Hello, my name is Peter Lawryniuk. I'm 42 years old. I have a brain injury that I got when I was 7 years old. I was hit by a car while riding my bicycle and in a coma for 11 days. When I awoke, I needed to relearn everything over again. How to walk, talk, eat and use all my muscles again. I had a lot of different therapies, speech, physio therapy, etc. I went back to school. I was in a small classroom and I had a special ed teacher that would work one on one with me at times. When I was 12 years old, another tragedy happened. My father passed away of a heart attack. That left my mother to raise three children on her own, with me being the youngest and with a brain injury, it was tough. Going through my teenage years was tough. I had some anger issues as a teenager, but for different reasons. One, my father passed away and two, I have a brain jury. I didn't know how to deal with certain situations. I was sent away a few times to get some help. First a rehabilitation Center in London. I was there for a year and then came back to Cambridge. I went to high school and then a few years later, I was sent to another rehabilitation Center in Hamilton to get more help. I was there for a year. I came back to Cambridge and finished my high school in Cambridge. It took me a bit longer but I did it. I graduated. Fast forward to when I was 26 years old, I moved out of my mothers house and into an apartment on my own. A year later, I started volunteering at a daycare called Peekaboo, one day a week for a few hours in the morning. Well, that one day a week turned to 2 days a week and then three days a week. Then I did two things in September of that year. 1, I got my G1 license. The second thing I did was, I signed up for early childhood education apprenticeship at Conestoga college. Going through college, I had my ups and downs the first 5 years as I needed to repeat some classes again because with my brain injury, it takes me longer to understand some things. Then another tradegy happened. First, my mothers dog passed away and then three days later, my mother passed away from complications after her surgery that she had. It was a very difficult time as now both of my parents were gone. I took a little break from college. I wrote, sang, recorded, videoed and put on YouTube three songs. Miracles which is about my accident and hospital stay. Life is like a storm which is about a storm that's coming and how my life was like a storm growing up with a brain injury. Olivia which is about my Goddaughter Olivia. She's in the video to. My supervisor at the daycare told me I had to take a food handling course, because I help in the kitchen with the grocery shopping, etc. So, I did. I ended up passing that class as I studied long and hard. I passed and wanted to go back and finish what I started in the Early childhood education and apprenticeship program. Apparently, l found out that I only needed two more classes. I took them both, one after another. I worked hard, had a great teacher, same one for both classes and I passed. I graduated college. I now volunteer and work in a day care called Bright Path Childcare, which used to be called Peekaboo Childcare. I help out in the classrooms and in the kitchen. I bring my guitar there and play and sing to the children there. I volunteer on Saturday mornings at the YMCA, stay and play. I also bring my guitar and play it and sing to the children there. I volunteer at a place called Michael Fleming Center and as well volunteer in my church. I work one day a week at a place called open space, which is a place with people of different disabilities can go and socialize, play games etc. It's part of the extend a family. Some things I learned growing up is: Never give up, look forward in life, not backwards, think positive, not negative, take one day at a time and you can do anything you put your mind to.

I never thought I would ever need a suicide hotline in my life. I was always the glue of my friends, the ideas of my team and the head of my family. In fact, I was the last person anyone would imagine ending up in a mental ward for an entire weekend, and yet, 1-800-273-8255 saved my life. Sabila, specifically. It had been a hard year. My sister became ill but I thought I had been handling it well. Until one day I had a panic attack that wouldn't stop. I called a hotline and told them I didn't want to do anything, any more, ever again. They helped me get to an ER where I was admitted to a wonderful place where there was art therapy, group sessions and surprisingly normal people. I remember going straight to my room and wanting to go to sleep forever, but I met a girl there who seemed so happy. I didn't understand why she was there but she was my angle. She made sure I ate food, attended classes and even showered. I was scared and thought it was over for me but I realized that this was a place for people to get back on their feet. That breaking doesn't mean it's over. Now I know that it was a new beginning and I will survive.

“How did you get that scar?” a curious child asks. She is referring to the “V” shaped scar on the right side of my stomach, just above my hips. While others have commented that the scar is “weird”, I have never found shame in it. “Are you talking about this one?” I ask, just to be sure. She nods. I'm at the pool with kids i'm babysitting, and in my bathing suit, revealing my stomach and scar. The child's question is one that I have been asked my whole life. “I had surgery,” I say. “Because I was born early.” I think about all the babies who are born early, all the anxious parents who spend sleepless months in a hospital, and the hundreds of doctors and nurses who spend countless hours working to ensure that the premature babies continue to breathe. My twin and I were one of those babies. We were born at 24 weeks. When you are just 24 weeks pregnant, your baby is about the size of an ear of corn. Doctors gave her the news that no parent would ever want to hear; “Your twins have only about a 10% chance of survival, and if they do survive, a plethora of severe health problems are likely”. My twin, Kara and I came into this world 4 months early on September 14,1998. Kara weighing 1.06lbs and Me weighing 1.04lbs. Each baby could fit in the palm of their dads hand. Their parents were only allowed to put their fingers into the incubator box to touch Kaylee and Kara. At one point i dropped down to 12oz, the weight of a can of soda. Within two days, sadly and heartbreakingly, the doctors informed my parents that Kara had level four brain bleed leaving her with almost no brain activity. Kara died and my family we able to hold her, love her and say their final goodbyes. Then she became my Guardian Angel. I gave my parents plenty of scares when I would often stop breathing, making my skin turn purplish as well as my heart rate would drop. The sound of alarms going off sent fear through my parents.Several days after my sister passed away, my parents got an early morning phone call and another big scare… Kaylee had ruptured her bowel and needed emergency surgery. The surgeon informed them that I had a 5% chance of making it and that they should prepare for the worst. Family and friends had said their final goodbyes before I went in for surgery and everyone thought that was it, I wasn't going to make it. The doctors also informed my family that if I were to make it, I would be unresponsive, in a wheelchair and have allot of problems my whole life. But, as I always did, I fought through it and survived with no complications . 100 days later, on Christmas Eve, I got released to go home after I had beat insurmountable odds. I do not remember my months in the hospital. I do not remember all the needle pricks that gave me permanent scars along my wrists, ankles, and stomach. I was a baby. Still, today I am grateful for my scars. I am so grateful that I am alive and forever grateful to all of the nurses and doctors who saved my life. My dad has always told everyone “Kaylee is a promise to our friends and family that life does go on…She is our miracle” Being a micro preemie I do still have complications because of the surgeries. I still have scars from the surgeries and IV lines. Being a preemie is the best thing that God could have given me. It gives me a spirit to fight and never stop. It gives me compassion for those going through painful situations. It gives me passion for babies that never get to see the light of day.I want to be a occupational therapist for little kids and babies or a NICU nurse. I know that I can give hope to families of premature babies with my story and working to make miracles happen for them as well. Occupational and physical therapy made me into who i am today. Physical therapy was tough for me but it helped me drastically. If it wasn't for therapy i would be in a wheelchair and unresponsive. I am thankful my parents put me through therapy.

Everyone knows this feeling. It's a kind of magic. But what does create it? The answer is quite simple: our family's love, understanding, a kind word. This is a gift that has no price at all. And it's the best. When I meet you, your eyes always shine and I can see this magical light, my dear grandfather. How wise, calm, responsive you are. I've never seen your anger or hatred. The world needs more people like you. You're 82 years old now, but your soul is really young. You smile even at problems, and that smile can heal so many broken hearts. You dedicated your life to millions of children, who went to school. During these 50 years of your career, you inspired your pupils and encouraged them to think unusually, to be creative. It turns out that physics and astronomy are really interesting to learn! You have always thought that every child is individual. I feel incredibly lucky, because you are the main teacher in my life. When I was small, you took me to the park and told me different stories, fairy tales. Your hands were warm and soft. I was sitting on a swing while you taught me to count. My golden days. We looked at the stars and they shone so brightly. The most important treasures for you are books. You've been collecting a huge library and sharing it with me. I inherited this love. Every book has its own smell, history, its own heart. It seems like you travel through chapters and feel emotions of characters. You can laugh with them, cry or hate. For example, philosophical books show us a picture of life. These ideas will never lose the power as our human nature remains unchangeable for entire centuries. Thinkers' words describe our reality. It's a wonderful chance to gain knowledge and open your mind. Limitation exists only in our consciousness. Grandpa, you've always said that self-education and self-improvement is the best way to achieve your dream life. It's necessary to learn constantly something new during your life. Stay curious, don't be afraid of the new horizons. Your example proves it, motivates. You were born in a poor family, had no books. You used to sleep almost on the ground and write on the old pieces of paper. There were hard years after the Second World War. Later you walked miles to borrow some books. In spite of all these obstacles you entered one of the most prestigious universities in our country and became a student of the famous professors. I remember those words: your purposefulness and hard work decide everything. Your favorite game is chess. It's the gymnasium of the mind. A perfect way to develop logical and analytical skills. As for me, the game reflects our society. Black or white spaces, black or white pieces. A pawn can become the queen. The king is strong because of his guard, but his golden crown won't save him. The strong pieces stand behind the pawns, but their destiny depends on the players. The game can last only on a bounded board, and then comes «zugzwang» - it means «no escape». In the end, all kings and pawns go into the same box. It's like in life, isn't it? You suffered a stroke in 2012. Your life was on the line. I was scared, grandpa. I was afraid of losing you, dark colors began to appear in my eyes. My God, no. Fortunately, you stand on your feet again. Your sense of humor is alive. Those days you were so weak, but wanted to solve mathematical problems. Today you still read complex academic literature and memorize poems. This love of life has won. Your kindness has returned to you as a boomerang, granddad. All I want is to save your health. Live long. I still can't accept how short our life is. Why can't we turn back the clock? We have one scenario, one way, one fate. One day a station will be final for us, and we will not be able to come back. After all, everyone of us deserves its own finish. Seconds turn to minutes, the minutes turn to hours, the hours to days and the days to years. Time is an impetuous stream of water that will flow out to the last drop. The stars can live for billions of years, but a child can only live for a few months. Do you manage your time properly or not, it kills you in the end. It lasts forever, so our lives are an ordinary thing for it. Grandpa, I can't imagine that you won't be home one day and I won't hear your voice. No, it's too painful. Every day I pray for your health. I'll continue to make you happy, we'll do everything possible for our happy moments. I'm very grateful to you. On a summer night you take your telescope and look at the stars. You seem like a wizard who understands the mystery of the starry sky. And it's so boundless, charming. The stars are bright as always. They are silent and won't open the secrets of the Universe to us. There are things that we must not know about. But if we believe, we can notice miracles around us. Yes, even a new life is a miracle. ‘Grandpa, will the weather be sunny tomorrow?' ‘The most important thing is to keep the sunshine in our souls!'