Sweet Miracles
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Sweet Miracles

Sweet Miracles

The orange bowl by our door is brimming with Halloween candy, ready for trick-or-treaters who will show up later tonight. It’s filled with snack-sized chocolate bars, peanut butter cups, chocolate-covered malted milk balls, and sour gummies.

My eyes fall on the Whoppers, and suddenly I’m back in my sixth-grade classroom, hoping with all my heart to win a carton of those very same chocolate-covered malted milk balls.

That day, my teacher announced she would be doing a drawing for a candy surprise. She reached into her canvas bag and pulled out the biggest carton of Whoppers I’d ever seen, setting it down on her desk.

I wanted to win. All day, I kept stealing glances at that carton, wishing it could be mine.

When the time came, our teacher put all of our names in a bowl. Miraculously, she drew mine.

The excitement of winning was such a shock of happiness that it nearly brought me to tears.

It was only years later that I realized she had probably rigged the draw. At the beginning of the year, we had filled out a questionnaire asking about our favorite things, and I’d written “Whoppers” as my favorite candy. Just before she pulled my name, she leaned down, gave me a little squeeze, and whispered that maybe today would be my lucky day.

At the time, my mom was in her second week in the ICU after being hit by a car while crossing the street. My sister, brother, and I had watched it happen, and since then, life had shifted into something unknown and uncertain. I think my teacher sensed that a small joy might go a long way for me right then.

Winning those chocolates felt like such a miracle—a bit of magic that came just when I needed it most.

Maybe that’s what some miracles are—things that find their way to us through the quiet kindness of others.