Raising a child with special needs does not come without difficulties. A parent can become so absorbed in seeing that their child's needs are being met that they put their own needs on hold.

Tina had known, for quite some time, that she needed to have surgery. She had put it off because she could not stand the idea of being away from Samantha. But, there came a day when surger could no longer be avoided. Tina's health was at trisk. Her surger was no longer an option...it was a necessity!

We started "rehearsing" the surgery, with Sam, several days before it was scheduled to take place. We told her that Tina's mom would take her to school, I would pick her up from school, and that she and I would go to see Mommy, who would be in the hospital.

On the day of her surgery, while she was being "prepped", the doctor came into the room to speak with us. He told both of us what he was planning to do. He mentioned that he would be taking a picture of Tina. He said he would take one for himself, and one for Tina. As nervous as I was, I remember telling the doctor that I wanted the picture...I did not realize that the doctor was talking about a picture of Tina's uterus...I thought he was actually going to take a picture of Tina, and I, of course, wanted a copy.

The surgery went as planned, and soon it was time for me to pick Sam up from school. I rehearsed what I was going to say to Samantha, all the way to her school. I had decided to tell Sam that Mommy had a boo boo in her belly, and that she was at the hospital...waiting to see us.

All the way to the truck, Samantha kept asking, "Where Mommy?" As we climbed into the cab of the truck, I remembered the picture of Tina's uterus the doctor had given me after surgery. I handed the picture to Samantha and said, "Mommy had a boo boo in her belly, and the doctor fixed it. She is at the hospital, waiting for us to come and see her."

As we pulled out of the school parking lit, and headed toward the hospital, I noticed Samantha staring, intently, at the picture. All of a sudden, she began to sob uncontrollably. As we neared the hospital, Samantha began to wail, "Oh God, mommy, oh God...mommy better!"

I pulled over to the curb and tried to comfort Samantha. All of a sudden, she began to kiss the picutre, over and over, sobbing, "Oh God, mommy better!" It was then I realized what was taking place. Samantha, as best she could, was praying. She was asking God to make her mommy better.

Over the course of my life, I have seen people pray. But I have never, in all my years, seen someone pray, and know, that, at that very moment, they were "reaching up into Heaven, and getting a grasp on the heart of God."

As we pulled into the hospital's parking garage, I told Sam that we were going to go see Mommy. I was, again, amazed at my daughter's reaction. I watched my little girl pull herself together, and compose herself, so that she could go see mommy. By the time we reached Tina's room, there was nothing in Sam's behavior that would give anyone a clue as to what she had just been through.

The doctor said that, although there were some results pending, everything, thus far, looked encouraging.

He really didn't have to tell me. I knew Tina would be fine. I had watched Samantha talk to God about it!