"Hey, Momma," Martin said.

"You were great tonight, Martin. We all watched you on television. I was cheering, 'That's my baby boy. He's playing in the NFL.'"

"Thanks, Momma," he said, unsure of whether he had the heart to tell her.

"Why didn't you play any more after your touchdown?" she asked.

Never one to lie to his mother, Martin knew he had to give her an answer. "Because I got injured. I sprained my ankle and I don't know what's going to happen now. I might not make the team. I'm scared. I'm real scared. We have to get your heart better. I don't know what else to do," he said as tears welled up in his eyes.

"You worry too much about me, Martin. I have my faith. God will provide."

"Well, he hasn't yet," Martin said, gritting his teeth as tears streamed down his face; he looked around the room to make sure no one was there.

"I'm going to get your heart fixed, Momma. Whatever it takes, I'm going to get it done."

"Oh, Martin, you've always been such a good boy. Always done the right thing. Always try to be so strong. Always trying to do it by yourself." She knew she never had to worry about Martin getting in trouble. He was the one who took care of his younger sister and brother. He was the one who made sure the family went to church on Sundays. He was the one who worked so hard in school and at football. But what worried her most about Martin was his lack of faith. He tried to do everything by himself so much that he left no room for miracles, she thought.

"I'm going to be fine," she said, trying to assure him. "You have to have faith, Martin. I have it. I have enough for the whole world, but you have to have it, too. God has a plan. He has one for me and he has one for you. God will provide for both of us. You just wait and see."

"I hope so, Momma. I really hope so. I just have to get better."

"You will, baby. You will. Just pray on it and remember you can't do it on your own. You're not that strong."

"Okay, Momma. Okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow. You get some rest. You sound tired," Martin said as he hung up the phone and placed a towel over his head to cover his face. It had been a year since she was diagnosed with a narrowing of the aortic valve. Every time he spoke to her she seemed more and more tired. The doctor said that the heart was being overworked as a result and surgery was absolutely necessary to avoid congestive heart failure. But the surgery was expensive and they didn't have insurance. Martin pleaded with several hospitals, but they wouldn't perform the surgery without the money to pay for it. Martin was angry at the system. He was angry at God, and he was angry at himself for getting injured. "I've got to get better," he repeated to himself.

Martin didn't think anyone was listening, but Gus heard Martin's conversation. Most of all he heard the despair in his voice. He picked up the phone in his office and simply said, "Looks like we have another one. I'll see you tomorrow morning."