FAITH HEALING Tom Mazanec Dear God, please, if it is Your will, free Laura from this Demon of Sickness. She is still a child, and she is all I have left after Alice died. Dear Lord, she has a life ahead of her, serving Your Church and bringing others to Christ. I remember when she accepted You as Lord and Savior. I was so happy to know that she would be with You for all eternity but not just now, please Jesus, she has so much service to give. Please, she's only twelve years old, don't take her from me now. Show the doubters, the marvel of Your Power. They said she would probably die that time last spring, when she was so sick, but You spared her life then. Show how You are the Master of life and death and heal my daughter once more, dear Lord. Trick or treat, I can hear them saying outside. The windows are open, it is so warm. I will close them, keep the blasphemy of Halloween out of this sickroom. People dressing up as witches and demons, an abomination is what it is. Dear Lord, how can they be fallen so low as to dress up as beasts of the fields, or the Devil himself, even. Do they not know they may become what they pretend? That horror on TV, with the head of a fly, calling for civil rights for SCABs. Civil rights for monsters! The head of a fly...the Lord of the flies...Beelzebub! They are not people, they are horrors from the pit of Hell. God, remember when little Laura made that drawing of Your Son reaching out His Hands to the fallen of the world? She is such a budding little artist. She can do so much good, to counterbalance the filth that is shown in the arts today. Oh, please, spare her life and help her to make the world a more Christian place. Show forth Your Power on this, the very holiday of evil. Make my daughter a sign of Your Providence. Heal her of this affliction. Even with the window closed, I can still hear them chanting for candy they did not work to earn. Dressing up as something other than God made them...sinful. Sinful. That is why people are becoming beasts of the field. It is Your Judgement on them. I thank You Lord that You have kept Laura pure from that loathsome filth. Man is made in Your Image, not a snake or a skunk. Serpents...look at what the serpent did in the Garden. God, how I loath that symbol of Satan! Free Laura from Satan's grasp and make her well again, I beseech You. Dear God, Laura is such a blessed child. She helps out after school at the nursing home, keeping company with those poor elderly people who are all alone. I thank You for sparing her life last spring, oh dear Lord forgive me for asking it again. If You heal her, I swear that I will redouble my efforts to stop those mutated horrors from defiling our Christian nation. SCABs are a pestilence on America. Please forgive us the sinfulness that brought this plague to Earth. It was the sin of pride, as at the Tower of Babel, that did this. We had the arrogance to travel into your Heaven, and that is what brought this down on us. Man is the Lord of Earth and not the stars. Forgive us. I will seek to smite these foul SCABs hip and thigh, dear Lord! Oh Jesus my Lord, I beg of You to restore my daughter to health. I wish only to do Your will and will accept Your decision, but please give her back her health. I swear I will obey you more fully in the future, I will be zealous in my war against these bestial SCABs, whether You restore my daughter or not, but please God, remember her singing in the school choir? She loves You so very, very much and I am sure she will be as mighty a soldier for Humanity as I shall be and together with Your other servants in Your blessed Church we will rid our country of these vile SCABs. I praise the Lord that we will! I will look at her now, Lord. I go back into the sickroom. She is lying quietly in the bed, with a light blanket up to her neck. I gently place my hand on her forehead. It is drying, no longer drenched in sweat as it was the last time I touched it. I pull the blanket off her to take her hand and check her pulse. Her hands are not there. The sleeves are empty. I carefully start to open her nightgown. There is something wrong with her neck. Scales! LAMIA! NAGA! JESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUS!! NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!