Once upon a time, there was a girl with very little faith that God could or would do big things for her. One morning, she got up, unable to walk. After limping around for a while, her mom called the doctor and made an appointment for the following day. The next day, the doctor said that she was going to have to have a cast on for four weeks. During those weeks, she acted like a crazy dare devil, climbing a rock wall, riding her bike, swimming with trash bags over the cast, etc. Three and a half weeks had gone by. She was taking a bath and her foot with the cast fell in and her dad had to cut the cast off. You wouldn’t believe how bad it smelt, but that wasn’t the worst part, her foot didn’t feel any better than before. The next day was a Sunday, and the preacher’s message was about faith. The girl knew that she needed to have faith that God could heal her foot. The pastor prayed that her foot would heal, and she limped around the whole day. That night, a scary black bruise appeared on her foot that hurt very badly. The next morning, she got up, again, unable to walk. Sitting on her bed, staring at her foot, she prayed, with the most faith she’d ever had. During her prayer, she watched the bruise fade away. “Mom,” she yelled, “it’s gone!” Her mom came running in after making another appointment for the doctor. She looked at her daughter’s foot, and then turned it around to check if it was the right side. They both were amazed. Reluctantly, she told her daughter to get up. She did, and the pain was gone. She ran, jumped, and praised God. Now, you would think that she was praising God only that He healed her, but she wasn’t. She praised Him also for the trial that he gave her. She realized that He gave her a gift, the gift of faith through that trial. That girl was me.
My name is Victoria. I like my friends to call me Tori.