Visit

"Why don't you go out and walk a little bit? The nurses don't let you do that?"
He looked at me quietly.

"Have you always lived in the Dallas area?"
He stretched his muscular arms and nodded gently.

"Well, Bryan, if you're still here next week, I'll come back to see you. I don't want to see you here since you want to go home, but I don't know if you're going home," I continued pleasantly.

"What is your name?" he asked. It was the only question he asked in our conversation.
"Janine."
"Janine," he repeated with a soft smile. "Yes, Janine."

One of the nurses had told me Bryan had complained no body cared about him.
So, I stopped by his hospital room to visit.
He had been there for five months.
He said he hasn't been to church in a while.
He didn't complain about his illness so I wasn't quite sure why his stay was lengthy.

"Paraplegic"
I gasped unconsciously.
I had arrived back at our chaplain's office and had looked up his medical records.

Bryan couldn't walk.
And I had told him to take a stroll in the hallways to relieve his boredom.
And he's letting me come back to see him.

"The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control." (Galatians 5:22 - 23)

A man of gentleness and self-control.
The fruits of the Spirit don't only grow in churches.
They grow wherever the heart is willing.

Photo credit: advances-in-medicine.com

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Life with Ashes

Image
It was time to move. Goodbye to Allen Parkway and hello to Florin Wood. Our family was moving from Houston to Sacramento. This was over 20 years ago and the day comes back with ashes. And a smell. My dad had piled all our old clothes, furniture, and knick knacks into a huge heap in front of our yard. He poured gasoline generously and lighted it with a smile. My mom looked on regretfully. All seven of us kids were delighted with the dancing flames. The neighbors didn't care. We lived in what they called the ghetto part of the world and since we were not shooting at anyone, we were okay. "We're starting a new life," my dad reassured mom as our van entered the highway. "No need to hang on the old stuff." "It was pretty dinky, wasn't it?" my mom replied hesitantly. Our years in Houston were our first years living in the United States, far away from the land of our origin, Vietnam. What dad burnt was the few possessions we accumulated fro
Read more

To Die

Image
After her husband was executed, Bùi Thị Xuân and her daughter was sentenced to death by elephant trampling. Both she and her husband were skilled generals, faithful to the Tây Sơn dynasty, and the rebels waited for this moment to exact their revenge. Before the herd of elephants stampeded her only daughter's 16-year-old body, she turned and cried out to her mother. "I cannot help you in this moment. Die worthy of a general's daughter," Bùi Thị Xuân fearlessly counseled her daughter as she watched her daughter die before her eyes. After Bùi Thị Xuân suffered the same death, the soldiers fought among themselves to eat a piece of her liver. They believed she was "gan lì" which meant unwavering intrepidity and eating her liver, or "gan" would make them just as dauntless. Fr. Châu opened his homily for the Mass of the 117 Vietnamese Martyrs with this heroine story from our history books. He said anyone can die for a dream, an ideal, a vision. Yet,
Read more

Kippah

Image
" 'Do you have a kippah ?' That's what this visitor asked for." One of us pointed to our head. "Yes... yes, you know kippah is Hebrew for a head covering for men." My class and I was at the Dallas Holocaust Museum for an on-site learning experience. Or a field trip for college students. "Does anyone know why traditionally Jewish men wear a kippah ?" the docent continued. "It's a sign of respect and fear for God, acknowledging that God is above us," one of my classmates offered. "Right before your group walked in, this man asked for this. This was the first time in all these years I heard someone asking for a kippah. I think he recognizes some thing of what is here, some thing of why are here. We are in the realm of sacredness," she continued. None of us spoke much on our way back. We had been full of comments and observations on our first field trip to the synagogue. We knew we didn't have a kippah to wear. But w
Read more