Do You Believe in Miracles?

My First Miracle

I have been a spiritual seeker for as long as I can remember. A great portion of my childhood was spent gazing at the skies, the trees and the panorama around us. At school, I was always called the “daydreamer” because I spent so much time looking through the classroom windows that it seemed I wasn’t paying attention to the lessons. I was! I just preferred to look outside at the beauty of nature, rather than always at the blackboard.

And there was a reason, grounded in the supernatural, why I preferred to gaze outside. You see, when I was a tiny child in kindergarten (I guess maybe around 4 years old), I and my school mates witnessed our very own miracle in the sky, which I remember to this day.

Growing up in the tropics, our houses and schools are built with many large windows and doors to let in light and breezes, and usually a front verandah style, with chairs and/or benches so you can enjoy nature even more. On this particular day, we children were learning our lessons on the verandah, on a beautiful, clear blue day.

Of course, I was gazing at the beautiful blue sky, but then so were some of the other children. Because we started focusing in on a clump of fluffy white clouds, suddenly appearing in one spot, to break up the blue. Then to our delight, we saw some black crows appear from nowhere and fly towards the clouds. Astonishingly, they formed themselves into a V shape at the base of the clouds! By this time, we were all screetching in our little voices: “look at the sky, look at the sky”!

As soon as the birds formed themselves into a V shape at the base of the clouds, the clouds separated vertically (like a door) and there, standing in that doorway, was a man with his back to us, dressed in old-fashioned blue and white robes, with his arms reaching upwards and outwards in a V shape, mimicking the birds’ pose below. We were now beside ourselves with joy, screetching: “look at the man, look at the man”! By the time we got out those words, the cloud door closed, the man disappeared and the crows vanished.

Then, as far as I remember, we all went back to doing what we were doing (probably coloring in our coloring books) and nothing more was said by us children about what we had witnessed, because children have the capacity to take the supernatural into their stride, as if it was just another part of everyday life.

To this day, I don’t ever remember a grownup voice asking what we were seeing and why we were yelling! Strange.

I didn’t even tell my family what I’d seen until a long time later when the family was gathered on our verandah, watching a total eclipse of the moon. That triggered my memory, and I tried to tell them what I had seen at school, but of course the grownups thought I was talking about the man in the moon, and were chuckling and trying to explain that no, the moon looked like a face but there was no man in the moon! Except my older sister, Sally. She said the hairs stood up on the back of her neck when she listened to me that night. She knew I was trying to say something important, in my baby voice, and nobody was getting it!

Except, many years later when I was grown up and mentioned in passing the miracle I had witnessed as a small child, she said “oh, so that was it!” She said she knew I had been trying to tell everyone what I saw but they were all in a good natured way, misunderstanding what I was saying.

So, that experience at a very early age, has totally colored my experience of life and existence to this day. I can never take as a given, the trivial things some people obsess about. I know that there are many things in our existence that cannot be explained away. I know that in order to make sense of our world and bring everything down to human level, we look out through the glass darkly, narrowly and hopefully, safely so we don’t have to deal with the immense, unseen, unknowable cosmos around us.

Even when we venture to peer at the unseen, we again view these mysteries through human eyes and experience. We try to look into the infinite, with finite eyes.

Look up, you never know what you might see!