Mother Said, “Go with God.” Daughter Replied, “Only if He Go in the Trunk With The Eggs!” Then

A girl without faith is angry with her parents. When her mother says, ‘Daughter, go with God,’ she tells him to go in the trunk. But when a horrible accident happens, and only the compartment is unaffected, her life falls apart.

Miriam was radiant in front of the mirror. Her meticulous makeup highlighted her brown eyes, and the outfit she had chosen for the party was bold, far from the simple dress her mother insisted she wear for church on Sundays. She felt an indomitable euphoria; the night promised adventure and freedom.

The doorbell rang, echoing through the quiet house. ‘It’s for me! I’ll answer it!’ shouted the girl, running towards the door. When she opened it, she found her friends. They greeted each other with shouts and laughter; their energy was contagious.

One of them, Raphael, looked seriously at Miriam and said, ‘We’re going to have to take your dad’s car. Lucas couldn’t—didn’t get it with his.’ The young woman ran her hand over the key to the vehicle that was on top of the counter and was about to leave when her parents appeared.

Adrian and Dulce looked at their daughter in shock, barely recognizing her in her provocative clothes. ‘Where do you think you’re going dressed like that, Miriam?’ her mother asked, her voice shaking with concern.

The girl rolled her eyes and replied in an arrogant way, ‘I’m going to a party at Marta’s house. You don’t know her. I won’t be home until tomorrow, so don’t wait up for me.’ The parents shook their heads in disappointment.

‘You’re not going; you know we don’t approve of that kind of party,’ Miriam, Adrian said firmly, ‘and that outfit, you look like a…’ He hesitated, unable to complete the sentence.

Miriam interrupted him, and her patience ran out. ‘A what, father? A woman? This is who I am. I’m not a little girl anymore,’ she hit her foot on the ground. ‘Definitely, no.’

‘I was going to say that you don’t look like a Christian girl. Go to your room and change now,’ but the girl obviously didn’t go and said no one was going to make her.

‘And where do you think you’re going with the car?’ asked Dulce, her eyes already full of tears. ‘To the party, damn it!’ the girl shouted, making her friends retreat a little.

‘You can stay here wasting your lives in this house, but I’m going to live my life!’ She turned to leave, but her mother’s voice stopped her. ‘Honey, these kinds of things are not for you, a child of God. God does not approve of these parties,’ Dulce said, trying to meet her daughter’s eyes.

Fury built up inside the girl, and she faced her mother, screaming, ‘If that God really existed, he wouldn’t have taken Phil from us!’ The room silent, her friends looked at the ground, uncomfortable.

The girl, enraged, was referring to her little brother, Philip. He was an adorable boy with a bright smile who filled the family home with joy and hope. The little boy, only seven years old, had been cruelly taken from them by an invisible and ruthless enemy, leukemia.

The little boy’s treatment was long and agonizing; the family, who lived in a small town, did everything they could to save the boy. Adrian, the father, a respected Deacon in the local church, and Dulce, the mother, always present at community events, were the pillars of strength for little Philip.

The whole town, despite being small and with scarce resources, knew the pain and the trials that family faced. The familiar faces and simple houses in the community became silent witnesses of the suffering of that family; they had little, but they had their faith.

During the worst days of her illness, Miriam watched her mother pray fervently, counting each rosary bead with tears in her eyes. She saw Dulce wear herself out, melt away in quiet, endless prayers, and each day she felt a growing fury in her heart.

‘God took my brother,’ she thought. ‘What a cruel and heartless God. It shouldn’t exist, such a horrible creature.’ And so, the girl’s revolt began.

She was only 16 when Philip passed away; enraged and embittered, she withdrew from the church and the teachings her parents held dear. She started hanging out with friends that nobody in town approved of; they were young like her but with a defiant demeanor and an insatiable thirst for fun that defied the traditions of the small community.

They partied, drank, and defied authority, all of which sounded attractive to a young woman who wanted to rebel against the world. Two years have passed since the little boy’s death; now, at the age of 18 and with her driver’s license in hand, the girl felt even more free.

Her parents, fearing that she would hitchhike with strangers or travelers, would lend the family car when she wanted to go out. Although they were very unhappy, after all, Miriam’s safety was still a priority for them.

So when the daughter was showing disobedience and rebellion by wanting to go to a party at the house of a friend they didn’t even know, Dulce and Adrian did not agree, and of course, they tried to warn her about the fact that it was something disapproved of by God.

However, when the girl uttered those cutting words about God taking their little brother away from them, they both stood still, heartbroken by the pain of a daughter who became increasingly a stranger to them.

‘You know what?’ shouted the girl. ‘If you don’t want me to take the car, okay, we’ll find another one, but I won’t stop going wherever I want just because of that macabre God that you worship!’ she raged, letting the pain and anguish mix in her words.

And with a brusque gesture, Miriam hurled her car keys onto the small table by the door, a metallic clang echoing through the front hall of the house.

‘Come on, guys, let’s hitchhike,’ she said, pulling her friends out. Her marked rebelliousness seemed to have intensified that night, leaving her friends momentarily stunned.

Adrian and Dulce, alarmed by their daughter’s sudden attitude, tried to dissuade her. ‘No, honey, wait,’ said the mother, running to get the keys from the table. With tears glistening in her eyes, she held out the key to Miriam. ‘Here, just be careful.’

She looked at her parents with indifference, taking the keys. Her heart, once beating and full of joy, was now cold, a reflection of her revolt. Without even saying thanks, she turned to her friends and said, ‘Come on, everyone, got into the car,’ teenage bodies pressing against each other in the confined space.

The father, looking at his daughter with concern, reminded her, ‘Just be careful, honey, and we left a comb of eggs in the trunk. Don’t take it out of there, okay? It’s for your grandmother; we’ll bring it to her tomorrow. That’s why you have to be here early in the morning.'”

Sure, here’s the text broken into more manageable paragraphs:

“A girl without faith is angry with her parents. When her mother says, ‘Daughter, go with God,’ she tells him to go in the trunk. But when a horrible accident happens, and only the compartment is unaffected, her life falls apart.

Miriam was radiant in front of the mirror. Her meticulous makeup highlighted her brown eyes, and the outfit she had chosen for the party was bold, far from the simple dress her mother insisted she wear for church on Sundays. She felt an indomitable euphoria; the night promised adventure and freedom.

The doorbell rang, echoing through the quiet house. ‘It’s for me! I’ll answer it!’ shouted the girl, running towards the door. When she opened it, she found her friends. They greeted each other with shouts and laughter; their energy was contagious.

One of them, Raphael, looked seriously at Miriam and said, ‘We’re going to have to take your dad’s car. Lucas couldn’t—didn’t get it with his.’ The young woman ran her hand over the key to the vehicle that was on top of the counter and was about to leave when her parents appeared.

Adrian and Dulce looked at their daughter in shock, barely recognizing her in her provocative clothes. ‘Where do you think you’re going dressed like that, Miriam?’ her mother asked, her voice shaking with concern.

The girl rolled her eyes and replied in an arrogant way, ‘I’m going to a party at Marta’s house. You don’t know her. I won’t be home until tomorrow, so don’t wait up for me.’ The parents shook their heads in disappointment.

‘You’re not going; you know we don’t approve of that kind of party,’ Miriam, Adrian said firmly, ‘and that outfit, you look like a…’ He hesitated, unable to complete the sentence.

Miriam interrupted him, and her patience ran out. ‘A what, father? A woman? This is who I am. I’m not a little girl anymore,’ she hit her foot on the ground. ‘Definitely, no.’

‘I was going to say that you don’t look like a Christian girl. Go to your room and change now,’ but the girl obviously didn’t go and said no one was going to make her.

‘And where do you think you’re going with the car?’ asked Dulce, her eyes already full of tears. ‘To the party, damn it!’ the girl shouted, making her friends retreat a little.

‘You can stay here wasting your lives in this house, but I’m going to live my life!’ She turned to leave, but her mother’s voice stopped her. ‘Honey, these kinds of things are not for you, a child of God. God does not approve of these parties,’ Dulce said, trying to meet her daughter’s eyes.

Fury built up inside the girl, and she faced her mother, screaming, ‘If that God really existed, he wouldn’t have taken Phil from us!’ The room silent, her friends looked at the ground, uncomfortable.

The girl, enraged, was referring to her little brother, Philip. He was an adorable boy with a bright smile who filled the family home with joy and hope. The little boy, only seven years old, had been cruelly taken from them by an invisible and ruthless enemy, leukemia.

The little boy’s treatment was long and agonizing; the family, who lived in a small town, did everything they could to save the boy. Adrian, the father, a respected Deacon in the local church, and Dulce, the mother, always present at community events, were the pillars of strength for little Philip.

The whole town, despite being small and with scarce resources, knew the pain and the trials that family faced. The familiar faces and simple houses in the community became silent witnesses of the suffering of that family; they had little, but they had their faith.

During the worst days of her illness, Miriam watched her mother pray fervently, counting each rosary bead with tears in her eyes. She saw Dulce wear herself out, melt away in quiet, endless prayers, and each day she felt a growing fury in her heart.

‘God took my brother,’ she thought. ‘What a cruel and heartless God. It shouldn’t exist, such a horrible creature.’ And so, the girl’s revolt began.

She was only 16 when Philip passed away; enraged and embittered, she withdrew from the church and the teachings her parents held dear. She started hanging out with friends that nobody in town approved of; they were young like her but with a defiant demeanor and an insatiable thirst for fun that defied the traditions of the small community.

They partied, drank, and defied authority, all of which sounded attractive to a young woman who wanted to rebel against the world. Two years have passed since the little boy’s death; now, at the age of 18 and with her driver’s license in hand, the girl felt even more free.

Her parents, fearing that she would hitchhike with strangers or travelers, would lend the family car when she wanted to go out. Although they were very unhappy, after all, Miriam’s safety was still a priority for them.

So when the daughter was showing disobedience and rebellion by wanting to go to a party at the house of a friend they didn’t even know, Dulce and Adrian did not agree, and of course, they tried to warn her about the fact that it was something disapproved of by God.

However, when the girl uttered those cutting words about God taking their little brother away from them, they both stood still, heartbroken by the pain of a daughter who became increasingly a stranger to them.

‘You know what?’ shouted the girl. ‘If you don’t want me to take the car, okay, we’ll find another one, but I won’t stop going wherever I want just because of that macabre God that you worship!’ she raged, letting the pain and anguish mix in her words.

And with a brusque gesture, Miriam hurled her car keys onto the small table by the door, a metallic clang echoing through the front hall of the house.

‘Come on, guys, let’s hitchhike,’ she said, pulling her friends out. Her marked rebelliousness seemed to have intensified that night, leaving her friends momentarily stunned.

Adrian and Dulce, alarmed by their daughter’s sudden attitude, tried to dissuade her. ‘No, honey, wait,’ said the mother, running to get the keys from the table. With tears glistening in her eyes, she held out the key to Miriam. ‘Here, just be careful.

She looked at her parents with indifference, taking the keys. Her heart, once beating and full of joy, was now cold, a reflection of her revolt. Without even saying thanks, she turned to her friends and said, ‘Come on, everyone, got into the car,’ teenage bodies pressing against each other in the confined space.

The father, looking at his daughter with concern, reminded her, ‘Just be careful, honey, and we left a comb of eggs in the trunk. Don’t take it out of there, okay? It’s for your grandmother; we’ll bring it to her tomorrow. That’s why you have to be here early in the morning.’

tragedy made the girl cry bitterly. Guilt and pain consumed her, and remorse washed over her.

“But we are praying for them, honey. Everything will be fine. God is good and will bless them, I’m sure,” the mother tried to console her daughter, while the husband added something that caught the young woman’s attention.

“But you know what was most curious? The trunk, it was intact. Miriam’s eyes widened at the revelation.

“The box of eggs we were going to take to your grandma was intact. It didn’t break a single egg. It seems impossible, but it’s true,” a twinge of reality shot through the girl’s chest.

Her mind was flooded with memories of the accident, of the bright light that seemed to come from outside, just as if it came from the trunk.

“Could it be God?” she thought. “I… I told him to go in the trunk.”

And in that moment, the sarcastic words she had uttered that night hit her hard. The regret that she had defied God, that she had been so stupid, that she had been cruel to her parents, and that she had blamed Him for taking her little brother, slammed into her heart like a rock crushing a single stick.

The girl began to cry, with her weak voice, “Forgive me, God, forgive me,” she murmured, crying and sobbing. Her parents embraced her, comforting her.

“Oh, my love, our God is wonderful. He always forgives when we repent. There’s nothing you can do that will make Him love you less.”

And in the midst of despair and sadness, Miriam found a small thread of hope, a possibility of redemption in the face of a God she thought didn’t exist but who perhaps was there all along.

Then the months passed, and during all that time, the girl made a point of praying for all her wounded friends. With her eyes closed and her heart open, she pleaded for mercy and healing to a God she now deeply believed in.

And so, the miracle began to unfold. The recovery of the young friends became a sign of hope for the whole city. The story of the accident and the mysterious case of intact eggs in the trunk spread throughout the city. Some began to call it the “miracle of the trunk,” and faith in the city grew.

Meanwhile, Miriam, after a long recovery, finally received discharge. When she left the hospital, she was no longer the rebellious, mocking girl she once was. Now, she was someone who had experienced pain and suffering but also hope and redemption. Someone who had challenged God but now found comfort in His presence.

And that night, back at her house, she knelt beside the bed and closed her eyes. She thanked for her life, for her friends, for her parents, and even for the ordeal that had brought her to this point of transformation.

She promised in a sincere prayer to use this second chance to improve, to love and respect others, and above all, to believe.