Karen tensed, screamed, and catapulted from her chair. Sister Ruth was bowled over from the impact of the flying body. She crawled over to the forlorn little girl who now lay shaking on the carpeted floor. Karen moaned and foamed at the mouth. She gagged and choked.
The air in the room suddenly felt dry and extremely hot. A desert-like breeze rushed by us. It was almost impossible to breathe. Then, just as suddenly, the stench was gone. Karen let loose with another scream, this time more shrilly, then became rigid and still. Not a sound came from her mouth. The foaming stopped. She was motionless.
Rogers ran over to help Sister Ruth, dropped to his knees, and placed both hands on Karen’s head. Ruth’s hands were already firmly planted on Karen’s abdominal area. They whispered in unison, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.”
Father Tyson chanted softly, over and over and over, “Domine, exaudi orationem meam (O Lord, hear my prayer).”
“Lord have mercy on us. Praise Jesus,” added Reverend Sutter. He kept repeating, “Praise Jesus, praise Jesus.”
Williams argued, cried out, and complained as he came forth with a roar like a wounded bull. The sound was deafening. And then he left on Rogers’ command to return to where he had originally come from. Karen ceased to quiver. The room was quiet. There was no movement, no conversation.
Reverend Rogers and Sister Ruth gently picked Karen up and helped her back onto her chair. No one else made any effort to assist them. We were all too shocked to think clearly. Sister Ruth stood next to the little girl and began talking softly to her. Karen’s wild appearance had radically changed to a look of peace and calm. Was it all over?
“Richard! Oh, my God! Richard!” Sister Ruth had been lightly stroking Karen’s hair. She suddenly stiffened.
Reverend Rogers quickly joined his wife. His eyes followed hers to Karen’s head. He reached out and touched. His voice rose to an excited pitch, “Her hair! Her hair! It’s changed! Hallelujah to God! It’s changed!”
Everyone in the room was jolted back into reality. We all hastily crowded around Karen and took turns feeling her hair.
Dr. Julian A. Pershing fingered it thoughtfully. He shook his head in disbelief. “It simply can’t be! It’s psychologically impossible. It simply can’t be!”
Reverend Donald J. Sutter was next to touch. He could only gasp, over and over, “Praise the Lord! It’s a miracle! Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord!”
Father John O. Tyson repeatedly crossed himself and murmured, “Gratias agamus Domino Deo nostro (Let us give thanks to the Lord our God).”
Dr. Fromme, the psychologist, and Dr. Emery, the psychiatrist, looked at each other strangely. Both men were visibly shaken. No audible comment passed between them.
The three therapy nurses were all shedding tears of happiness. Or was it relief?
Indeed Karen Kingston’s hair had changed! Dramatically! From coarse, dull, and stringy–to shiny, soft, and healthy looking! It was, as Reverend Sutter had expressed, “a miracle!” It was now 8:45 am. A rest period was in order.