Ordinary Miracle

"It's not that unusual, when everything is beautiful. It's just another, ordinary miracle."- Sarah McLachlan Ordinary Miracle.

Why isn't anyone coming to save us? This was Claire's daily question as she mused about her current situation. It didn't seem too long ago, she was attempting to sign adoption papers to give up her son. It seemed a sign of fate at the time, when any pen she was handed failed to work. And she was glad she had listened to all the signs, glad she hadn't signed away her son. He was her miracle. Yet, Claire wasn't satisfied. She gazed into her beautiful baby boy and watched him squirm and fuss as she tickled his chin. She pressed her lips against his tummy and blew a raspberry and took a moment to observe his mouth as it crinkled into a huge smile and it was music to her ears when he giggled.

Claire tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear, and momentarily became lost in her own thoughts. For days after the crash, she had prayed for a miracle. Prayed for the moment when she could start over again, not recognising the blessing in disguise that had been the plane crash straight away. She wasn't exactly religious, but she believed in miracles and believed in the extraordinary like astrology, which everyone else had either ridiculed or ignored her whenever she started talking about it. Faith appeared in different forms, Claire realised. Whether you believed in God or whether you were an agnostic, searching for answers on your own journey, everyone had faith in something. Some people, like Kate, had faith in trying to escape a dark and murky past. People like Jack and Locke had faith in starting again, trying to find themselves by rising above every obstacle thrown at them. Other people were difficult to judge. Claire saw the tortured soul of Charlie and wondered what faith he had, what the reason was for fighting for his survival. She knew he was religious, but that wasn't what tied him into fighting his way through every challenge he was given.

She saw him now, strumming his guitar and then quickly writing something down on a piece of paper. Maybe, music was what kept him going. His faith, so to speak, lay in the notes of his guitar and the words on the paper. Every strum of his guitar freed his spirit and raised his hopes up. She let a small smile curl her lips as she watched him. There was a pattern in the way he played; he would chastise himself and then write something down and then would smile as he played, nodding his head in time to the music. What was it about him that enchanted her? What was it about this small figure that made her eyes light up every time he spoke, or did something enchantingly amusing? Her mind casted itself back to the night they met, whereby he'd selflessly offered her a blanket, claiming she was warming for two. He'd reassured her they would be fine and she had believed him. She still believed him now.

Claire continued looking around, observing everyone else. Another character difficult to judge was Sawyer. He was reading, just like he did everyday. Why? It wasn't for amusement, or out of boredom. With her perceptive mind, Claire figured it was something about the lure of disappearing into another mind, being a different character and escaping from reality, that kept Sawyer glued to the book. Somehow, she suspected he had invented the name Sawyer for himself in order to hide something, or maybe the opposite. To prove a point perhaps? Or identify himself with someone? She remembered the day when Sawyer had offered her a blanket, stumbling over words as he tried to think of a compliment to say about Aaron. It had made her smile watching him stutter over what to say, because normally he had a comeback for everything. Seeing another side to him was like seeing an ugly duckling transform into a swan. An ordinary miracle.

Her bottle green eyes averted back to the musician before her. It was almost sad that no one had seen the transformation she had, in this man. He had become someone new, from junkie to...hero. Yes. That was the word that lingered on her tongue. He was a hero, and yet so easily forgotten. It made her quite angry that the attention always lingered on Jack or Locke, Sayid or Kate. Yes, she was grateful for everything they had done for the camp but Charlie had done just as much for her. He'd rescued her son, kept him calm, went off to rescue Eko and had gone off with Jack and Kate in the very beginning, to the cockpit to retrieve the black box. Sure, he'd hurt her by taking her son, but it was unintentionally, an honest mistake. She couldn't muster a single ounce of antagonism towards him, yet with Jack, Locke, Sayid and Kate she could critiscise their flaws and easily judge them for it. Why? Because she felt more strongly about Charlie's survival than anyone else's. Yes Jack was a doctor and vital to everyone's survival, but somehow she felt if Charlie died, her whole world would collide, distort and then crumble.

Claire sung a soothing lullaby to Aaron as he pulled at her hair to get her attention. He fought against it at first, then his eyes slowly closed as he succumbed to the power of her voice. She kissed his little nose and then she moved her lips to kiss his eyelids and then back to his forehead. Her son was her whole world, and she was revolving around him, filled with utter bliss at how perfect he was. He was the sun in her sky, the reason she woke up every morning. And so was Charlie. She stared in utter amazement from Aaron to Charlie, realising she was having an epiphany.

What if a miracle didn't have to be big or easily recognized? What if it was something simple like experiencing a new love, or witnessing an infant's laughter? What if she had had a miracle all along and never realised it? Actually, if she was counting she had two miracles. Two precious stars in her ink black sky. All her life, Claire had assumed miracles were only amazing and extraordinary once-in-a-blue-moon events, like a paralysed man learning to walk again or a blind man suddenly being able to see again. Her eyes sparkled at this new realisation, feeling ecstatic at her own luck. Who would've thought that people could be miracles? She smiled again, and realised she could've stared at the two of them forever.

Charlie felt her gaze and stared back at her, and then smiled. That one smile lit up Claire's face, made her day complete and made her figuratively fly. That one precious smile in itself, was a miracle. Her cheeks reddened as he winked at her and her heart galloped like a racehorse as he stood up to walk over. She averted her eyes to her other miracle, her little boy. His chest moved slowly up and down and she leaned in, involuntarily, to hear his breath. She felt a silhouette match her position and she turned to see Charlie gazing at Aaron as well. It made her heart swell with pride as she realised what a great father figure he was. The way he looked at Aaron, anyone would have assumed he was his own flesh and blood. Two worlds, one family.

Claire collapsed next to him, to gaze at her son again. She could never tire of seeing him sleep, never get bored of watching him twitch and move as he dreamed and never, ever want to stop watching him breathe slowly, up and down. He opened his eyes briefly and let a small smile and a gurgle towards his family before falling fast asleep again. Claire turned her eyes to Charlie who simultaneously did the same to her. She reached out, grabbed his cheeks softly, and kissed him on the mouth, aware of how right it felt. It felt like every piece of her that had been broken by betrayal, heartbreak and fear, was coming back together again, stronger than ever before.

And in essence, wasn't that what a miracle was? Something which revived or mended something broken beyond repair and made it strong again?

It seems so exceptional, when things just work out after all. It's just another ordinary miracle, today.