Sarah loved to play by the lake. She would watch the fishing boats sway and listen to the birds sing. Sometimes she and her friends would have contests to see whose rock would skip the farthest on the water. But today Sarah wouldn't be at the lake.

Sarah lay in bed while her body ached with fever. Her throat was so sore it hurt to swallow. Only a light blanket covered her body, but it felt as though she were under heavy quilts.

“Dear God,” Sarah prayed, “please help me get better. It's no fun being sick. Amen.” “Do you think you could drink some broth if I made some?” her mother asked.

“I'll try,” Sarah promised.

Jairus, Sarah's father, entered the house while her mother stirred the soup.

“Papa!” Sarah called out. “Did you go to the synagogue today?”

He looked her way and smiled, but his eyes were sad. “Not yet,” he said, moving toward her bed. “I wanted to see how my girl was doing first.”

“I've heard that the teacher is nearby,” Sarah said.

“Wouldn't it be great to hear Jesus speak in our synagogue, Papa?”

“I'm not sure,” he said. “Many religious rulers don't like Jesus. I don't think they would welcome Him in our synagogue.”

“But, Papa, I've heard He can do miracles. He must be from God.”

“Maybe when you feel better we will listen to Him together.”

For a minute, Sarah forgot about being sick. She imagined being part of the crowd that followed Jesus. Papa would lift her on his shoulders so she could see, and Jesus would smile.

Sarah yawned. Her thoughts started to get fuzzy, and her eyelids drooped.

As she drifted into sleep, Sarah heard her mother's urgent voice.

“Jairus, you must find Jesus and bring Him here. He may be the only one who can make her well.”

Some time later, Sarah sensed a powerful presence beside her. I must be dreaming, she thought. It feels like God is holding my hand.

“Little girl, I say to you, get up!”

Sarah reacted without thinking. She opened her eyes, threw off her blanket and stood up. Her legs held her steady as she walked across the floor. Happiness bubbled inside her, and suddenly she wanted to skip and dance around the room. Jesus was here. Jesus had healed her!

Sarah's mother hugged her tightly. When Sarah turned to her father, she saw tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Papa,” Sarah said. “Why are you crying?”

“It is a miracle!” he exclaimed. “You were dead, but Jesus made you live again.”

Jairus swept Sarah into his arms and spun her in circles. She laughed as everyone in the house joined in the celebration.

After her father set her down, Sarah reached out to Jesus. “It's no fun being sick,” she said. “Thank You for answering my prayer.”