prayers from canton

Every Thursday I look back at a specific day and time that was spent with my daughter Matilda as she waited for, received, and recovered from a liver transplant. She was in the hospital for 72 days and we remained in NYC until she turned four months old.

October 31st, 2012 - prayers from canton

The night before felt like the last supper. We took such care in preparing Matilda and sat down with her for what seemed like a real family meal. Everything felt so beautiful, so peaceful. We did our best to soak up the moment, knowing that every moment with Matilda was a moment to be cherished.

What we didn't know was that back in our little town of Canton, NY, there was a group of women who gathered in prayer to lift us up. I have been told bits and pieces of what took place and I hold onto each word.

"I have never felt so close to God then when I was praying for Matilda"; "We gathered around in this amazing circle of remarkable women - of all faiths - and we prayed"; "It was beautiful the way everyone came together for you and for Matilda"; "Matilda has taught me how to pray straight through the day with words and songs - we lifted her name!"

The most beautiful thing of all was that I did not know any of these women. Well, I knew one, Linda - she was our neighbor when we stayed in the Amish Country Inn. I was pregnant with Matilda, we had just moved from Montana, and Parker peeked in her window everyday. She was the only person in the entire town that we knew, that we felt cared about what was happening with us.

And here she had put me in touch with this group of women, who despite not knowing me, cared so much about what was happening. Who gathered, who prayed, and who lifted us. I am forever thankful to them. Without their support, I would have felt completely alone upon our return.

I held on to the feeling of peace that carried us through the night. I held on to that feeling as Matilda crashed. I held on to that feeling because it was the only thing I had.

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