AMERICAN WOMEN VICTIMIZED BY ICE - MEMBERS
Leah Ward: I joined this group in honor of my sister, Luisa Lynne Romero-Otero (1952-2005)
The Power of Prayer
June 1952.
I was eight
and an only child,
wildly envious of any kid
with a brother or sister
which was every kid in town except me.
I was the only
only child I knew.
One greedy family
up the street
had four kids.
They never ran out
of somebody to play with.
Mom had remarried at Xmas time
and promised me a baby,
maybe by the time school started
in September after summer vacation.
I was impatient
and prayed daily for speed.
On June 21, at 7:34 a.m.
I got a baby sister.
She came early and she made headlines:
SMALLEST BABY BORN IN SAN DIEGO SURVIVES FIRST DAY
The paper went on to say
how small she was,
1lb., 2 oz., and 12 inches long,
and how the doctors thought
if she could make it a week
in a machine called an incubator
she would be okay,
and they were going to keep her
until she weighed 5 lbs.,
just to be on the safe side.
I asked my step-father
how long it would take her
to get 5 lbs.
Maybe months,
he said.
I began to cry.
I knew she would survive;
she was my sister
and tough like me.
But Mama had explained carefully
the hospital rule about
a kid had to be twelve to visit.
I couldn't wait months
to see my sister.
My step-dad took me with him that afternoon
warning all the way
I might not be allowed in.
I wasn't.
Mean old nurse at the desk
was a rule believer who wouldn't bend.
I threw myself into a chair
and cried some more while everyone else
in the world went to see MY baby sister.
A nurse walking by
came over to ask
why I was crying.
In between sobs I told her.
Some nurses have hearts of gold.
She threw a stern look
at the desk nurse,
took my hand and
led me out of the
waiting room into a long corridor.
We turned left.
At the far end
I saw a mob of people standing
in front of a huge window.
As we came closer
I could hear
"Oh's" and "Ah's",
people saying
"She's so tiny",
and
"She's so beautiful."
I knew my sister
was behind that window.
I pushed and shoved
my way through until
I was close enough
to press my nose against the glass.
On the other side was a glass box
standing on four metal legs
with funny tubes attached to it
and inside the box was.......
a horribly wrinkled red thing
with long black hair all over,
its tiny wizened monkey-face
scrunched up
in a silent howl.
The longer I looked the worse it looked,
a sad mixture of lobster and monkey.
Finally I turned away,
pushed my way silently
out of the crowd,
strode back down the long corridor
to the waiting room,
threw myself into the chair
where earlier I had sat crying,
and began to pray.
I prayed for six months.
They kept my sister for three months,
and after Mama brought her home
I wasn't allowed near her
for another three months.
They were afraid I'd give her a germ.
I didn't mind.
I needed all the time I could get.
Xmas was to be the big day,
the first time I would be allowed
to hold my sister.
All Xmax Eve I prayed
extra hard
and the next morning, too,
while waiting for everyone else
to wake up.
Toward the end I started to lose faith,
stuck a rabbit's foot in my pocket
and crossed my fingers.
The time came.
Mama positioned me carefully
at the end of the couch
and plumped a pillow over
the crook of my right arm.
I closed my eyes,
held my breath,
and felt a slight weight
press down on the pillow,
then nothing -
just motionless weight.
I opened my eyes.
She was staring at me
with big, brown solemn eyes,
as if she had been waiting
for this moment
as long,
as anxiously
as me.
For an eternity
we scrutinized each other.
My eyes traveled
over her porcelain skin and rosy cheeks,
over her tiny head capped with brown ringlets.
I pulled back the blanket
and checked her feet.
Ten perfect little toes.
I brushed one big awkward finger
gently again her miniature hand.
I was afraid
I'd bruise her
with my hugeness.
She seized my finger
and smiled at me.
I smiled back.
My prayers had worked.
From head to toe
I had prayed her into
the most beautiful
baby sister
in the world.
I was eight
and an only child,
wildly envious of any kid
with a brother or sister
which was every kid in town except me.
I was the only
only child I knew.
One greedy family
up the street
had four kids.
They never ran out
of somebody to play with.
Mom had remarried at Xmas time
and promised me a baby,
maybe by the time school started
in September after summer vacation.
I was impatient
and prayed daily for speed.
On June 21, at 7:34 a.m.
I got a baby sister.
She came early and she made headlines:
SMALLEST BABY BORN IN SAN DIEGO SURVIVES FIRST DAY
The paper went on to say
how small she was,
1lb., 2 oz., and 12 inches long,
and how the doctors thought
if she could make it a week
in a machine called an incubator
she would be okay,
and they were going to keep her
until she weighed 5 lbs.,
just to be on the safe side.
I asked my step-father
how long it would take her
to get 5 lbs.
Maybe months,
he said.
I began to cry.
I knew she would survive;
she was my sister
and tough like me.
But Mama had explained carefully
the hospital rule about
a kid had to be twelve to visit.
I couldn't wait months
to see my sister.
My step-dad took me with him that afternoon
warning all the way
I might not be allowed in.
I wasn't.
Mean old nurse at the desk
was a rule believer who wouldn't bend.
I threw myself into a chair
and cried some more while everyone else
in the world went to see MY baby sister.
A nurse walking by
came over to ask
why I was crying.
In between sobs I told her.
Some nurses have hearts of gold.
She threw a stern look
at the desk nurse,
took my hand and
led me out of the
waiting room into a long corridor.
We turned left.
At the far end
I saw a mob of people standing
in front of a huge window.
As we came closer
I could hear
"Oh's" and "Ah's",
people saying
"She's so tiny",
and
"She's so beautiful."
I knew my sister
was behind that window.
I pushed and shoved
my way through until
I was close enough
to press my nose against the glass.
On the other side was a glass box
standing on four metal legs
with funny tubes attached to it
and inside the box was.......
a horribly wrinkled red thing
with long black hair all over,
its tiny wizened monkey-face
scrunched up
in a silent howl.
The longer I looked the worse it looked,
a sad mixture of lobster and monkey.
Finally I turned away,
pushed my way silently
out of the crowd,
strode back down the long corridor
to the waiting room,
threw myself into the chair
where earlier I had sat crying,
and began to pray.
I prayed for six months.
They kept my sister for three months,
and after Mama brought her home
I wasn't allowed near her
for another three months.
They were afraid I'd give her a germ.
I didn't mind.
I needed all the time I could get.
Xmas was to be the big day,
the first time I would be allowed
to hold my sister.
All Xmax Eve I prayed
extra hard
and the next morning, too,
while waiting for everyone else
to wake up.
Toward the end I started to lose faith,
stuck a rabbit's foot in my pocket
and crossed my fingers.
The time came.
Mama positioned me carefully
at the end of the couch
and plumped a pillow over
the crook of my right arm.
I closed my eyes,
held my breath,
and felt a slight weight
press down on the pillow,
then nothing -
just motionless weight.
I opened my eyes.
She was staring at me
with big, brown solemn eyes,
as if she had been waiting
for this moment
as long,
as anxiously
as me.
For an eternity
we scrutinized each other.
My eyes traveled
over her porcelain skin and rosy cheeks,
over her tiny head capped with brown ringlets.
I pulled back the blanket
and checked her feet.
Ten perfect little toes.
I brushed one big awkward finger
gently again her miniature hand.
I was afraid
I'd bruise her
with my hugeness.
She seized my finger
and smiled at me.
I smiled back.
My prayers had worked.
From head to toe
I had prayed her into
the most beautiful
baby sister
in the world.