My 10-year-old grandson, Adam, had recently been released from the hospital when his parents and one-year-old sister, Katie, came to spend the weekend at our place in the country. I was thrilled to see him up and about and hugged him tight.
“You sure had a lot of people praying for you,” I told him.
“I know,” he said. “Even in my coma I could hear the prayers. It was amazing!”
Adam’s maturity, far beyond his years, never failed to impress me. It had been after another weekend visit a month earlier that he’d been hospitalized, diagnosed with spinal meningitis, fighting for his life. He spent three weeks in a medically induced coma, and
