Inspirational

They laughed at her for not knowing how to pray, but when she heard the voice of God

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“A little girl was always teased for her stutter and for not being able to pray properly. But one night, after she said a prayer, no one could believe what happened next. They were stunned. It was just another normal day at St. Joseph’s Orphanage, a place with old walls and well-kept gardens where the love and care of the nuns tried to replace the warmth of a real home.

Among the children running and playing in the corridors was Olivia, a little girl of just 9 years old with big eyes and loose hair who stood out not for her mischief but for her shyness and difficulty in expressing herself.

The little girl was often mocked by the other children because of her stutter, especially during morning prayers at breakfast and afternoon prayers at Mass. Every time the little girl tried to pray out loud, her stuttering became more evident. “Gee God, our Father, who art in Heaven,” she tried to say, while giggles and whispers filled the room. “Look at her, the little stutterer,” the children made fun of her. The nuns, always kind and understanding, tried to encourage her. “Easy, dear, just pray more slowly, okay? And you, stop making fun of her. If you don’t, you’ll have to confess to the priest.” But Olivia’s nervousness only increased.

Sister Clara, the oldest and wisest of the nuns, used to say, “God hears all prayers, my dear, no matter how they are said.” Even so, the words of consolation did little to ease the little girl’s heavy heart. In the cafeteria, while the other children talked and laughed, Olivia often sat alone, lost in her thoughts. She wondered why God had made her like this, different from the other children who spoke without any problems.

At night, in the shared dormitories, while the other children told stories or played at making shadows on the walls with their hands, the little girl curled up in her bed, hugging her only teddy bear, a gift from one of the nuns on her last birthday. The mockery of the day echoed in her mind, making silent tears wet her pillow.

“Why can’t you learn to speak properly, Olivia? Even my little brother speaks better than you,” mocked one of the older girls that night, causing laughter among the others. The little girl tried to ignore it, but every word was like a thorn in her heart.

That night, as the moon shone outside and the sounds of the orphanage quietened down, Olivia lay in her bed, curling up in search of comfort. She closed her eyes, trying to push the mocking voices from her mind. With a heavy heart and a feeling of loneliness enveloping her like a cold blanket, the little girl fell asleep, hoping to find some peace in her dreams. But it was almost impossible, as the children made a point of bothering her, so she kept being awakened.

“Will she wet the bed tonight? She always has nightmares,” mocked the other girls amidst spiteful laughter. Olivia closed her eyes tightly, wishing the voices would just shut up.

Moments later, when everything was quiet, enveloped in the darkness of the dormitory, the girl fell into a restless sleep where strange and disturbing dreams took over her mind. They were confusing and frightening visions, with shadows dancing on the walls and whispers that seemed to call her name. In her chest, a feeling of fear and unease grew, making her heart beat faster.

The girl woke up in a cold sweat and dazed. It was like that every night. But something was about to happen in that orphanage, something that not even the most experienced nuns could have predicted.

One particular night, after another day full of mockery and laughter, Olivia tossed and turned in bed, fighting the images that haunted her nightmares. Suddenly, she stood up abruptly, awakening with a scream that echoed through the silent dormitory. Her roommates were startled by the sudden noise and soon began complaining about her again.

“Here comes Olivia again with her silly nightmares. Let us sleep, girl,” the nuns, alerted by the screams, rushed to the dormitory. Sister Clara gently approached her bed and stroked her hair, trying to calm her down.

“Calm down, calm down, my flower. It was just a bad dream. You’re safe,” she said in a soft reassuring voice. But the girl, still panting and wide-eyed with fear, tried to explain what she had seen in her dream, but the words jumbled up in her mouth, her stuttering becoming more intense with nervousness.

“I… I… I had a d-d-dream that something b-bad was g-g-going to h-happen,” she stammered, struggling to make herself understood. The nuns exchanged worried glances, but continued to calm the girl down.

“Don’t worry, darling. Dreams are just that, dreams. They can’t hurt us, okay?” said one of the sisters, trying to reassure her. But Olivia couldn’t calm down. In her heart, the feeling that something terrible was about to happen wouldn’t leave her alone. Try as she might, she couldn’t articulate her thoughts or explain her fears to the nuns or the other children. Silent tears streamed down her face, and that was the last straw.

“The girls in the room made fun of her again. “What an insufferable girl that stutterer is! She wakes us up in the middle of the night and makes a scene! Can’t you just let us sleep, Olivia?” Enough!” shouted Sister Clara. “Leave the girl alone! Have you no compassion? Come on, all of you, get up! We’re going to pray in the chapel. Let’s see if you learn to ask God for forgiveness.”

The girls complained, but the nuns, that cold morning at 3:00, took the girls’ roommates to the chapel. Still sleepy and mumbling, “If you stop teasing Olivia, you can go back to sleep,” the sisters scolded, trying to teach them a lesson of respect and compassion.

During the short nocturnal Mass, Sister Beatrice, known for her sweet and serene voice, made an unexpected request. “Olivia, dear, why don’t you lead our prayer today? You can ask God to give you a good night of sleep without any nightmares.” The other children exchanged surprised glances and began whispering among themselves, some of them stifling evil laughter.

Olivia felt the weight of the stares on her. With trembling hands and a pounding heart, she stood up. At first, her voice was just a stuttered whisper. “De-dear God,” she began hesitantly. The children in the back could barely contain their laughter, making faces and mocking her difficulties. “Oh no, at this pace, she’ll be praying until morning!”

However, suddenly something incredible happened. The girl gave them an angry look, and her voice simply began to gain strength and clarity. The stutters disappeared as if they had never existed. With her eyes closed and her hands clasped together, she spoke with a conviction that surprised everyone.

“Dear God, I ask you to protect us from all evil. May your holy mantle envelop us and keep us from harm. I especially ask, Lord, that you don’t let our beloved orphanage catch fire. Protect this home and all who live here. Don’t let the flames hurt anyone.

.A deep silence fell over the chapel. The laughter stopped, and the mock looks turned into expressions of astonishment and admiration. Firstly, because the girl had managed to say an entire prayer without stuttering; secondly, because such a specific prayer about the orphanage catching fire was something frightening, as if she was foreseeing something bad.

The nuns looked at each other, confused by the specificity of Olivia’s prayer. “What fire?” muttered the sisters, perplexed by the girl’s choice of words. Olivia finished her prayer with a firm amen and sat down, still teary-eyed but now with a serene countenance.

The other children, in silence, seemed to be contemplating the transformation they had witnessed. The little girl who always stuttered and fumbled had led a prayer with such eloquence and depth that it left everyone stunned. It was as if she was glowing; her gaze was deep.

“What fire, Olivia?” Sister Clara asked, but the girl remained silent. With that, the nuns decreed that the mass was officially over. It was surprising what had just happened. The little girl who had always been mocked by her classmates, saying such a different kind of prayer.

The nuns were still processing the girl’s words, wondering about the reason for her specific prayer and asking the girls to stand up when suddenly a deafening noise broke the silence of the night. Just like that, a violent explosion shook the orphanage building, and in the blink of an eye, voracious flames began to spread.

“Good Lord!” everyone shouted. The fire quickly consumed everything in its path, illuminating the room with an eerie warm glow. Chaos ensued; children screamed in panic, running in all directions, while the nuns tried to maintain order and calm.

“Quickly, children, to the exit!” shouted Sister Clara, her voice trembling but determined to save each of the little souls in her care. Sister Beatrice and the other nuns headed for the corridors, banging on the bedroom doors, waking up the children who were still sleeping, enveloped in the toxic smoke that was spreading.

“Fire! Fire! Wake up! We have to get out of here now!” they shouted, picking up the younger ones and leading the older ones by the hand. Meanwhile, Olivia remained strangely calm in the midst of the turmoil. Her eyes watched the flames consuming the place she called home, but there was no trace of panic on her face, just an unusual serenity for a child in such a situation.

It was as if she had already witnessed that moment, as if she already knew the ending. “Come on, Olivia,” a nun pulled her by the arm, terrified. The situation was desperate, but the women didn’t give up. With all their efforts, they managed to take all 30 children out of the orphanage, one by one.

When they reached the courtyard outside, they quickly counted the children, making sure that none were left behind. And they were all there. The flames now engulfed the place completely, with the windows exploding from the intense heat, throwing sparks into the night sky and shards of glass everywhere.

The group watched in horror as the place that had been their home was reduced to ashes. In the midst of the crowd of frightened and crying children, Olivia still maintained her mysterious calm. The other children looked at her with a mixture of horror and doubt. “How did she know?” they whispered to each other.

The nuns, although relieved to have managed to save everyone, couldn’t hide their deep sadness as they watched the orphanage disappear in flames. “God is with us,” murmured Sister Clara, looking at a sky with a mixture of gratitude and amazement. “Somehow, she knew. She saved us.”

After the turmoil and dread caused by the fire, the firefighters finally arrived at the orphanage after being called by neighbors who saw the whole thing. The poor nuns, without a phone because everything was inside, were in a panic. With efficiency and speed, the firemen brought the flames under control, preventing the fire from spreading any further.

Although relief was gradually settling in among the nuns and the children who were safe outside, the sight of the damaged orphanage caused a tightening of the heart. As they watched the firefighters at work, the sisters and the little ones, still in a state of shock, approached Olivia, the girl whose unexpected prayer had preceded the disaster.

“Olivia, how did you know there was going to be a fire?” the fireman said that the fire was caused by a gas leak,” asked Sister Clara, with a look of deep curiosity and concern. Stuttering as she always did when she was nervous or emotional, the little girl began to tell them about the frightening dream she had been having every night.

“I dream of the fire, but no one may believe me,” she said, with tears in her eyes. Upon hearing the girl’s words, a wave of understanding and remorse swept over the other children, who until then had mocked her for her inability to pray without stuttering. One by one, they began to approach the little girl with expressions of regret.

“I am sorry, Olivia. We shouldn’t have made fun of you,” said one of the girls, while another added, “You saved us. Without you, we would have been trapped inside.” One after the other, the children enveloped Olivia in warm hugs, murmuring words of thanks and apologies.

The little girl, surprised by the sudden change in attitude, let herself be hugged, feeling part of that big family for the first time. The nuns watched the scene with tears of gratitude. “God works in mysterious ways,” commented Sister Beatrice, “and today he spoke through the dreams of a child.

The atmosphere, which had once been one of terror and despair, was now transformed into one of unity and mutual support. Even in the face of tragedy, the orphanage community grew stronger, united by the recognition of Olivia’s value and sensitivity.

The little children gathered around the girl promised never to make fun of her again; on the contrary, they saw her as a heroine, someone who despite her difficulties, had been an instrument of salvation for them all. “Now we won’t make fun of you anymore, and you can play with us, okay?” they promised as they played together in the temporary space where they were sheltered.

However, amidst this atmosphere of support and solidarity, a loving family approached the nuns with the desire to adopt Olivia. They had followed her story in the media and were touched by her brave heart and sensitivity. “We want her to be part of our family,” explained the couple, as Olivia looked at them with eyes sparkling with hope.

“Would you like to come and live with us?” asked the woman, holding out her hand to the little girl. Olivia, who couldn’t stop crying, was thrilled and almost couldn’t believe that her luck had changed. She accepted the offer with a shy smile. “Yes, I’d love to,” she stammered, still in shock at the turnaround in her life.

On the day of her adoption, the whole orphanage celebrated. The nuns organized a small farewell party for Olivia, and the children said goodbye to her with hugs and good wishes. “We’re going to miss you, but we’re so happy for you,” they said as Olivia hugged each of them.

The little girl promised that she would always visit them. The adoptive family was thrilled to take her in. “You’ll have a

room of your own, and we’ll take care of you with all our love,” promised the mother. As Olivia said goodbye to the orphanage, the nuns gave her their final blessing.

“May God accompany you on this new journey, Olivia. You will always have a special place in our hearts,” with tears in her eyes but a heart full of hope and love, Olivia left for her new life. The orphanage, now in the process of being rebuilt, symbolized a new beginning for everyone. It was soon ready, and all the children were able to return to the place they called home.

And the little girl, the girl who was once ridiculed, was now walking towards a bright future, supported by the love and gratitude of everyone who knew her.

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