Miracle Cure

My uncle Ronnie, who was born in 1936, was a sickly child from birth. The doctors predicted that he would not live to be two years old. He was not able to drink or eat without vomiting, and was severely malnourished. He was sent home, basically, to die.

Given the type of woman that my grandmother was, she would not accept the fact that her baby would not live. Though she constantly sought doctor after doctor, yearning to find at least one who would offer her a ray of hope, the search was in vain. And though she still trusted her regular pediatrician, in addition, she began to listen to anyone and everyone who might be able to help her infant son. She had no other choice: If she did nothing, he would die.

She tried home remedy after home remedy, and still Ronnie was not able to keep down much food. He was 18 months old, and his time on this earth was running out. Finally, she heard of an old man whom the old people venerated for his ability to cure people when the doctors had given up hope.

She bundled up her three young children and, on a cold winter's night, took them to see this man. She was willing to put all her faith in this old man, and perhaps seal the fate of her baby by doing so. But what choice did she have?

The old man, she recounted, was very creepy, but she didn't care; she was desperate. She let him examine Ronnie, and after hearing her story, he prepared a concoction and told her to go home and add it to Ronnie's milk at his next feeding time. She was to use all of it and to make sure that Ronnie drank it, no matter what she had to do to get him to do it. After that, the old man assured her, Ronnie would be just fine.

Though a bit leery after meeting this strange fellow, she decided she must give it a try. She gave the concoction to Ronnie while she watched and waited. During the feeding, he started to cough, but she had been told to feed it to him "no matter what," so she did.

As she said, "Those first minutes after giving my baby the slimy greenish concoction were the worst few minutes of my life. I watched and waited, not quite sure what would happen."

What did happen was that Ronnie's cough became more intense. He began gasping for breath, and he was starting to turn blue. Her heart pounded. She felt that she had just killed her baby son. Then, Ronnie let out one very violent cough, and out came a large, solid mass. Once done, Ronnie stopped coughing, his color came back, and he was all right.

Ronnie started eating normally after that and, to say the least, had a rather gluttonous appetite. He started gaining weight, and within no time he was given a clean bill of health from his doctor.

The doctor was amazed at the progress Ronnie was making, and asked my grandmother what she had done to make it happen. My grandmother refused to tell him, and said to him, "Some things are better left unsaid." The doctor replied, "Well, whatever it was, it was good, and good for you for not giving up hope. You have saved your baby's life because of it."

My grandmother was afraid to tell the doctor for fear that he might "lock her up." However, since none of the people are alive today – not the old man, the doctor, my grandmother, nor Ronnie – I feel that it is safe to tell you the secret. The mysterious concoction that saved my uncle's life was made up of various herbs, the primary herb being none other than catnip.

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