Being a single dad wasn’t easy, but my six-year-old daughter, Emily, filled our days with light and laughter — especially when she sang her favorite “pancake song.”
One winter night, I got a call: my best friend Trevor, who’d been in a coma, wasn’t expected to wake up. I took Emily with me to the hospital. While I spoke with the doctors, she began singing softly beside his bed.
Moments later, the monitors beeped — Trevor was waking up. The doctors couldn’t explain it. Emily just smiled and said, “He liked my song.”
That night, as I tucked her in, she asked, “Did I really help, Daddy?”
“You did,” I whispered. “You brought someone back.”
Trevor recovered fully — and I learned that sometimes, the smallest voices carry the greatest miracles.
