A Treasury of Miracles for Friends by Karen Kingsbury

he’s got the first leg,” Karl whispered to her.
    Before the race started, Sarah prayed.
God, this is as close as Robbie will ever get to fitting in with able-bodied kids. Please . . . let it be a good experience.
    The gun sounded and Robbie was off, his feet pumping harder than before. In his hand was the baton and with each stride he stretched out. From the other three spots around the track, his teammates cupped their hands around their mouths and cheered hard for him. Then, fifty yards into his section of the relay, Robbie tripped and flew forward, hands outstretched. He skidded along the rough track surface and then settled to a stop, motionless.
    Sarah was on her feet, stifling a gasp. Her fingers covered her mouth, and in a quiet whisper she leaned close to Karl. “Is he okay?”
    Karl only shook his head and leaned forward. “Finish the race, Robbie. Come on. The team needs a finish here.”
    That’s when they noticed something happening. From the three spots along the track where the other three runners were waiting, each of them began running toward Robbie. Together they helped him to his feet, and one of them found the baton in the grass where it had fallen. Only then did Sarah see Robbie’s injuries. His knees and upper legs were badly scraped and bleeding; the same with his hands and arms.
    “Karl!” She started to stand up. “He can’t keep going.”
    Karl held his hand out in front of her, forcing her to stay seated. “Wait. It’s okay, Sarah. Let’s see what’s going to happen.”
    When it was obvious to his teammates that Robbie couldn’t keep running, two of the boys made a chair with their arms, and together, carrying Robbie, all four runners trudged to the next station. When they reached it, Robbie handed his baton to one of the boys carrying him.
    At that point, the fans began rising to their feet, cheering and clapping on the team as they trudged on, all three able-bodied runners shoulder to shoulder, Robbie carried in the middle.
    A hundred yards later the baton was handed to the next boy helping to carry Robbie. And just before the last hundred yards, that boy handed the baton to their fourth teammate.
    When they crossed the finish line, all four runners raised their hands and then formed a group hug, jumping and pumping their fists in the air.
    Sarah and Karl watched them from their place in the stands, surrounded by people who understood exactly what they’d just seen. The runners on the field were more than winners. They were a team, and more than that, they were friends.
    Sarah and Karl had prayed for the miracle of acceptance for their son. That prayer was answered a hundred-fold.

A Friend in Need
    T he church meeting was set to begin in ten minutes, and still Adam Murphy couldn’t believe he was there. He had promised himself he’d never be back, never step foot in a church again. Yet here he was, not by force, but because of the love of one very special friend.
    And all because of an event so amazing and unbelievable, it could be nothing but a miracle.
    The pianist played something slow and meaningful in the distance, and Adam glanced over his shoulder as someone entered the sanctuary. It was him—the man who had shown friendship when Adam deserved nothing but judgment and disdain. That man was Will Fredericks. Now Will shuffled in through the back door, spotted him, and smiled. In his slow and painful way, Will made the walk to the place where Adam was sitting.
    “You came.” Adam slid over and patted the place beside him.
    “Wouldn’t have missed it.” Will sat down and gave Adam a hug. “I feel like God’s got another miracle up his sleeve.”
    Adam wasn’t sure what Will meant by that, and he didn’t ask. Instead he stared at the roughly hewn cross up on the stage. And slowly, gradually, the yesterdays began to fall away until he was back there again, the summer of his twenty-fifth year.
    The year his life changed forever.
    Back then, Adam had felt like the