“Do Miraculous Things Happen To Ordinary People?” By Aimmee Kodachian

In 2005, I was driving in my new car on the freeway, listening to Celine Dion. The euphoria stemmed from a successful business meeting I had just concluded. However, as I journeyed southward, my mind unexpectedly detoured back to 1975, when I was 12, transporting me to our family living room on an unforgettable day. It was a day when my 20-year-old brother, Robert, whom I admired, and I engaged in a conversation about my struggles at school.

Back then, people didn’t understand how to deal with a child with dyslexia, and I was punished and held back in my class year after year. Therefore, I desired to become a teacher to help children struggling with school. During my cherished moment with Robert, he gave me hope, assuring me that he would help me with my education to reach my dream of becoming a teacher.

Robert rose to get his tea from the kitchen, and in that split second, I felt a mysterious urge to get up and get it for him. But as I headed toward the kitchen, disaster struck. A bomb crashed through the living room window, engulfing the apartment in chaos and flames. Frantically, I screamed, “Robert, Robert!!” An earlier delightful moment now turned into a terrifying reality as Lebanon plunged into war, and Robert lay dead.

Amidst the smoke and confusion, I saw my mother panicking and attempting to escape through the window while my father struggled to keep her safe. The explosions and screams filled the air, and the world around me blurred as I helplessly

witnessed the unfolding tragedy. Bombs continued to devastate the building, shaking us to our core with each terrifying impact. The entire experience felt surreal, and I struggled to accept the harsh reality before my eyes. Life stood still as I grappled with uncertainty and fear enveloping me.

After the chaotic events, my father comforted me by sharing his profound wisdom, explaining the significance of the black part of our eyes, the pupil, representing how sometimes we must go through darkness to see the light. “You might not understand it now, but someday you will.” His words struck a chord within me, making me stop and think deeply about what he was saying.

The war brought hardships upon my family, leaving us homeless and separated. At 12 years old, I had to care for my younger brother in a rundown boarding school. The war’s impact was severe, cutting off communication and basic necessities, and I feared I might never see my family again.

Surrendering to God at 12, I experienced His gift—the Miracle Light—that guided and protected me throughout the challenging 13 years of the Civil War.

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