Three Second Miracle

In the mid-1960s, there wasn't much a doctor could do for a man like Tom. Parkinson’s had turned his daily life into a series of exhausting, uncontrolled spasms. Even on a quiet morning, just sitting in his kitchen reading the paper was a struggle against his own nerves.

That peace ended when he heard a scream from the front yard. Tom moved as quickly as he could to the door and saw a Doberman pinning two neighborhood children against a tree. The dog was snarling, its teeth bared, and it ignored Tom’s attempts to yell it down. It was clear the animal was about to attack.

Tom went to the hall closet for his rifle. The simple act of loading it was a trial; his right arm jerked so violently that he dropped the 30-06 shell onto the floor. He fumbled to pick it up and finally managed to chamber the round.

He leaned against the doorframe to try and steady himself, but it was useless. His head and arms flailed as if he were fighting off a swarm of bees. In that era, without the modern medications we have today, he had no way to suppress the tremors. He looked through the sights, but the barrel traced wild, erratic circles in the air.

Just as the dog lunged and caught the girl’s jacket in its teeth, Tom closed his eyes for a split second. "Just give me three seconds, Lord," he prayed.

Suddenly, the shaking stopped. For the first time in years, Tom’s body went completely still. His muscles relaxed, his aim leveled, and he pulled the trigger. The dog fell instantly.

The children ran for the house, and by the time they reached the porch, the tremors had already returned to Tom’s limbs. He always said that while some miracles involve parting entire seas for days, he only needed one to last for three seconds.