I spent the three years asking for a miracle for her.
I never stopped asking.
What's the point in being on first name terms with the creator of the universe if you don't ask him for things.
That's my motto.
But he said no.
Tonight I'm with Mrs Walshe's daughter Jackie.
Jackie is a high flying business executive and married to my brother Tom.
She has an energy unlike anything I've ever seen.
Let's just say she is a strong woman and she gets things done.
I am not always at ease in her company.
As we walk through the nursing home I see a new side of her.
Residents of the home appear from nowhere to take her arm.
The elderly. The ailing. The alone.
They hug her. Or ask her for a favour. Or thank her for something.
She has time for them all.
They all know her.
It's extraordinary the rapport, the love, she has for them.
I didn't get my miracle.
But these all got miracles.
For the past three years, because her mother was here, Jackie was here. Her energy, which so oft and heretofore had been channelled to excellence in the business world, had for the past three years touched these people and brought light and laughter to their lives.
She was the miracle God gave to them.
In fact she was a thousand miracles to them.
Jackie of the thousand days.
I stand in the corridor where I'd presumed to claim my prayer was unanswered.
In the heart of the tragedy I see... majesty, glory, victory.