This is a true story

Original Message
“ Everything is possible with GOD ”
This is a true story : read it !

This is a true story. I was born in Hong Kong. My family of seven brothers and sisters all went to Catholic School. All of my brother and sisters were baptized and became Catholic, except me. I was always the black sheep in the family, I ran around with a group of people who were Jehova’ s Witnesses, I was so young. I told people about the Bible. That’s why I hated Catholics. Jehova’s Witnesses were very against Catholics. They didn’t believe in the Cross. But I stayed in the Catholic School because my father forced me to stay in that school.
When I was fourteen, I was babtized and because a Jehovah’s Witness ( JW ). When I was sixteen, I became a JW Pioneer for a few years.
When I came to America, I met a guy and we married. I still went to JW meetings. Every time i came back from the meeting, we fougth. Finally, I completely stopped. In my heart, I was at a loss. I didn’t believe anything anymore. I didn’t go to Church, and my husband didn’t go to Church either. He only went two or three times a year.
In 1973, my husband’s company sent him to Scotland to work. We lived in Scotland for four and a half years. In 1977, I was sitting in front of the TV eating peanuts. I love nuts. Suddenly, I felt very sick, and I vomited and vimited. I couldn’t stop. The doctor took me to surgery and loosened the intestine. One week later, I came home.
Because I was in the hospital for a whole week, my stomach was empty. When I came home, I felt very hungry. So, in a few days, I went out and had lunch. Then I came home and had a big dinner. After dinner, I started vomiting again. My whole body cramped. There was no feeling. I thought I had a stroke. My husband called the doctor again. He sent me to the hospital. This time, they found found out that because I hadn’t eaten anything for a while, I should not have eaten so much. My intestines were loose. One part of my intestine had fallen into the other intestine. I had to go to surgery again and have three to four feet of intestine cut out. Then they rejoined the intestines.
In two weeks, I had two surgeries. A few days later, I told the doctor, “ There’s something wrong inside ”. He found out that it was leaking at the place where the intestines had been joined together. The doctor refused to do anything. He said, “ Sometimes the body will fight. You are too weak for surgery. Let’s wait a few days, it might heal again ”.
One nigh, I asked the nurse to take me to the toilet. So the nurse took me and she said, “ After you finish, push the button and I’ll help you back to bed. ” After she left, I felt my stomach was so warm. It was hot. I heard a noise like poof. It sounded like a ballon popped.
It was blood. My wound had re-opened. I tried to push the button, but I had no hands. How lucky it was that the door was open. One of the patients was passing by and I heard him scream for help. When I woke up, I found out from my husband that the doctor had done surgery again.
They had fixed the leak, and I would be OK.
After the surgery, I became very, very weak. In one arm, they gave me IV fluid. In the other hand, they gave me medicine and saline water. One day, I told the doctor that didn’t feel good. So the doctor took an x-ray again and found that the place where the intestines were joined was still leaking. He didn’t know why it was still leaking. Everyday felt the pain, inside and outside. From that moment, I didn’t want to live. Even when the doctor and nurses gave me pain killers, it didn’t help. I don’t remember anything except the pain.
About three or four weeks after the surgery, the docter told my husband that my health was going down and down. He should decide to either let me die or to go to surgery again. I would have only 40% chance of living through the surgery. If didn’t have the surgery, I would lie there and slowly die. I really didn’t care if I lived or died. All I wanted was to die in peace. I didn’t want to suffer. So I was crying.
I saw a man come into my room. He wore a brown robe. He said, “ Poor child, you’ve suffered too much. Can we pray? ” I said, “ Leaveme alone. I don’t know how to pray anymore, because I leaft God. God doesn’t want me.I’m bad. ” He sat down, held hand and prayed. I forgot what words he said but I looked at his hands. He had scars on both hands. I looked at his face. He had big eyes. I couldn’t forget his face, even now when it’s fifteen years later. I said to myself, “ His hands looked like Jesus hands, but that’s not possible ”.
After he finished praying, he put his hand on my foread. He said, “ Poor child, you suffered enough. No more suffering. Your God lost you and He has found you. Pray to God. You can tell God everything. He is your Father, and also your dear friend. All your secrets, anything, you can tell God. Talk to God. Pray to God ”.
After he left, for the first time in my life, I prayed deeply to God. I said, “ Please God, if I have sinned, let me die tonight, peacefully. I don’t want to suffer anymore. If not, give me back my life. I will be a good Christian ”. After I opened my eyes, I saw the night. The light was so bright, shining on my bed. I thought the nurse had turned the light on, but three was nobody in the room. Then I heard a noise in my head. The noise said, “ No more suffering my child. You will be Ok tomorrow ”. I rubbed my eyes with my hands. The light disappeared. My room was dark. My heart was so happy. I called the nurse and asked her to call my husband. I asked him to buy me a cross. I never had a cross in my whole life because I never believed in it.
Early the next morning, I woke up. There were many people in my room. One nurse saw me lying flat in the bed asleep. And she said, “ Oh my God. What have you done ? Who took off all of yor needles ? ” I said, “ I didn’t do it ”. They came to check my blood pressure and temperature. Everything was normal. The nurse said, “ We have to go to surgery ”. So she cleaned me up. When she looked at my wound, the wound was closed. The wound,or small hole where the tube was, closed also. The plastic bag and the tube lay beside me. The nurse said, That’s funny. Why are you going to surgery today ? Everything looks so normal ”. She called the doctor. He checked me and took me x-ray. He saw the inside, where the intestine was supposed to be leaking, was closed up too.
The docter asked me, “ Who came to see you? “ I said “ The priest ”. He said, “ What did he look like ? what is his name ? ” I said, “ I don’t know him ”. Hesaid, “ You’re a miracle girl. I have worked so many years and heard of so many miracle stories, but I’ve never seen one with my own eyes ”. And he touched me. “ you must be very special. God chose you ”. One week later, I came home. My husband wanted me to og back to America for another check up. His job was almost finished in Scotland; we returned to the US. Because I was still so weak, I stayed with my mother and she took care of me.
I called the Catholic Church in her area. The sisters and the priest was that saved my life. After six months, I came back home. Four year leter, I went to Scotland to look for the priest to say thank you. He saved my life. But I couldn’t find him. I went to so many Churches, but nobody knew him.
In 1986, I met a priest’s sister and another friend. There ewrw visiting fram Ireland. They had heard the story about my heading. They asked me to tell the story again, so I did. Father sister Asked, “ What did the priest look like ? ”. “ He had big eyes, a beard and a big nose ”. I explained that he looked Italian. A few weeks later, Father called me. He said he had a letter from his sister for me. I come home and when I looked at the picture that she had sent me, my heart jumped. I cried. I said, “ God, I found you ”. I wanted to get his address so that I could write to him to thank him. I looked at the backof the picture. It said that he had died in 1968. I couldn’t believe it. He came to see me in 1977.
Even now, I still can feel his hands. How can someone so real not have a body ? I still remember when he touched my forehead. His name, I found out, was Padre Pio. I didn’t know him but I wanted to know all about him. I found out that Padre Pio always visited with sick people to pray. I’m the first one that he visited in Scotland.
It happened to me. I’ll always remember what he said, “ Pray to God, God is your friend, your dear friend ”. God is alive.
Share this story with your friend too.

( Jinara, Sylvia )
The prayer of Padre Pio will be given to you in the next day !

Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com