The Miracle Club

By Wendy Aridela

How can you create the life of your dreams? Is it possible to change your life from something unsatisfying, even frustrating, to a life that is much more fulfilling? Follow the story of four young women who create a Miracle Club, using science and intuition to completely change the direction of their lives. Learn with them as they experience creative success, more fulfilling work, renewed health and true love. And follow the simple pathway laid out in the book, to manifest your own "Miracles,"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wendy Aridela
• Release date: Feb 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224817290

Book preview

Emma’s Evening

That evening, after an hour or so getting her records up to date so as to be prepared for the Parents’ Evening that was coming up, Emma sat wearily, cradling a glass of wine, and allowing herself to unwind a bit, after another long day.

At times like this, she did sometimes wonder if teaching had been the right choice. She loved it, but the workload was gruelling. And the Government had been less than generous with the pay structure so – in real terms – the value of her salary was going down, rather than up.

As far as work/life balance went, her life was a bit crazy. Even her weekends seem to fly by. Once she’d done the laundry, and the quick bit of cleaning that there never seemed to be time to do in the evenings, it was time to do the lesson preparation for the following week.

It would be nice to have some time for creativity, she mused, remembering her Grandma sitting knitting by the fire, and her Uncle Walter, who had taken to water-colour painting in his 50s, and was now exhibiting his work and even selling the odd painting.

It would be even nicer to have the possibility of a relationship. Teaching was fulfilling, but it certainly didn’t tick every box. Thinking back, she realised with a shock that it was probably 2 – or even 3 years – since she’d been on a date. And she hadn’t been in a relationship since University.

Uncomfortably, she had to acknowledge that she was lonely. She missed intimacy, missed having someone special, missed that feeling of being loved and cared for. But how could she ever find the time for dating?

Maybe she needed a miracle!

That brought back the conversation she’d had with Lisa, about Oliver’s Miracle Club. Oh, to be 6 years old again and to believe such things were possible! Wouldn’t it be nice to get together with your friends, do some hocus-pocus, and have a shiny new boyfriend turn up on your doorstep the next morning? Oh yes, and perhaps a new job offer, too?

A Miracle Club – maybe that was what she really needed, she chuckled to herself. A magical, effortless route to a bright new life – as if that was likely to happen! Mentally chiding herself for being such a child, she wearily took her glass back into the kitchen and finally made her way to bed.

The Start of it all

Looking back, Emma always  equated the Start of It All with the Parents' Evening at St Mary’s Primary School when she'd first met Daisy Hamilton, Oliver's mum.

Miss Lloyd?

Emma had looked up to see a petite, smartly dressed redhead standing in front of her desk. Yes, I'm Miss Lloyd, she'd replied. Are you Oliver's mum?

Yes, Daisy Hamilton, nodded the redhead, shaking hands and introducing herself. Was it the hair that gave me away?

It was, replied Emma. Oliver looks very like you and he obviously gets his hair from you, doesn't he?

I'm afraid so, agreed Mrs Hamilton. How is he doing with his spelling now?  They spent a pleasant 10 minutes or so discussing Oliver's progress. He was a bright and happy little boy, working at an above average level for a six-year-old, so neither of them had any serious concerns about his schoolwork.

The Parents' Evening was just a chance to make a friendly connection and for Emma to validate Daisy's general impression that Oliver seemed to be doing well. It was so often like this, reflected Emma. The parents who came tended to be the ones whose children were doing well and were not a cause for concern in any way, while the ones she would really have welcomed a chance to speak to - the parents whose children were persistent trouble-makers and bullies, or the ones who always seemed sad, or troubled, or excluded by other children, plus the few who seemed to have genuine difficulties with their learning - less often turned up.

The discussion about Oliver's work and behaviour was drawing to a close, and Mrs Hamilton  bent to pick up her handbag from beneath the chair. Actually, before you go, smiled Emma, I must tell you one more thing. Oliver has started a new game with his little group of friends and it's so sweet. They've formed a Miracle Club and Ben and Connor are both completely convinced that it has magical results. Ben was telling Gregory only last week that his parents had bought him the LEGO set he'd been wanting because of Oliver's Miracle Club, and Connor told me that the reason he'd got the scooter he wanted for his birthday was because they'd all wished for it together, and so it had come true. Has Oliver talked to you about it? It seems to be one of his favourite games at the moment.

To her surprise, Daisy Hamilton didn't instantly laugh or smile as mothers usually did when told a charming story about their child, but instead looked somewhat embarrassed. She shot a sideways look at Emma, as if assessing quite how to respond. 

Well, it's lovely that Oliver has a Miracle Club at school, she said slowly. But it's not really a game, Miss Lloyd. It's something we do at home. I have a Miracle Club with a group of my friends and Oliver has heard me talking about it many times. If you feel it's inappropriate for him to be doing it at school, I can have a word with him, if you like, and tell him to keep it at home. I don't want him to get other children into trouble with their parents.

Emma was astonished. No, there's really not a problem, Mrs Hamilton, she apologised. None of the other parents has said anything. I'm sure they thought, as I did, that it was just a six-year old's fantasy game. So, are you saying that there's something in it? That the Miracle Club actually makes a difference? That it genuinely helps you in some way to get more of what you want? I don't understand.

Daisy  Hamilton seemed to reach some kind of decision.

Look, this isn't the time or place to talk about it, Miss Lloyd, she insisted. I can see you have some other parents waiting to talk to you and I don't want to hold things up. But if you'd like to get together for a coffee some time, outside of school, I'd be happy to talk to you about the whole idea and fill you in on what it's about.  She searched in her handbag and produced a business card. I know the school will have our home landline number, but this card has my mobile number, she explained. "Give me a call if you want to get together for a chat sometime.

Don't worry, I'm not going to try to recruit you to some odd cult or convert you to some strange faith - we're really all quite sane! It's just that this stuff does work when it’s done in the right way.  But there's no pressure - it's completely OK with me if you decide to just let it go. I realise this must all seem very odd. It's up to you. Now I must go - you've got more people to see and I'm supposed to be talking to Meredith's teacher in five minutes."

With a smile, she was gone. Emma quickly got into conversation with the next parent, and the rest of the evening passed quickly.  There was a lot of extra work to complete before the half-term break, and Emma forgot all about the rather odd conversation with Mrs Hamilton until several days later.

Sorting through her shoulder bag and getting rid of what appeared to be several weeks’ worth of accumulated junk - receipts, coupons, a cinema ticket, and a voucher for a free jacket potato (where had that come from?) she found Daisy's business card. It almost went into the waste-paper basket along with everything else, but something made Emma keep it, and pin it on the cork board on the kitchen wall. Not that she seriously thought there was anything in the Miracle Club thing.... I mean, surely.... But. somehow, the business card was pinned on the corkboard, and stayed there.

And that was really the Start of It All, she decided.

The TGIF Group

Raucous laughter rang out yet again from the table across the room where a group of young office types were celebrating the end of the working week with what looked to be steaks and chicken wings, washed down with industrial quantities of lager. Emma hoped that none of them was planning on driving home.

She gave a sigh, and flicked back a long strand of