Grown-up

"Ma, can you scratch my nose for me?"
Connie slowly rubbed his nose.
Each of Ryan's fingers had small pins coming from it.

Ryan had been in the hospital for over a month.
I was his chaplain the day he came in the emergency room for severe burns.
He never knew I was there.

Like any mom, Connie was overwhelmed with fear.
His only other brother, five years older, kept muttering it was his responsibility to keep Ryan safe.

Burns.
Burns on kids.
Months of recovery.
Every chaplain dreads getting these cases.

A nurse came into check Ryan's dressing.
"Sister, you know when Kimmie here first came in, you know what Ryan said," Connie remarked. Kimmie was about 4feet 10 inches and very petite.

"He said that he wanted his grown-up nurse. He looked at Kimmie and said he wanted his grown-up nurse!" Connie broke into chuckles.
"He thought that you were a make-believe nurse?" I asked Kimmie.
"That's what he said. We didn't understand him at first and then we got it and I had to tell him I was real. I went to nursing school, have my degree, and worked for several years already," Kimmie said with a smile.

"Grown-up nurse! Ryan you are so silly!" Connie continued with a smile.
Underneath her smile, I saw how her features have become marked with sadness and soulful beauty.

I rejoiced that she could laugh.
I rejoiced that she allowed herself joy although she had to see her son, bandaged mummified-like and needled in five different places.
I rejoiced that she continued to take care of her physical appearance although I saw her in the hospital every day, from 7pm to 9pm.

I wonder if she knew that her son's suffering lent her a beauty that has become indelibly marked on her face.

Note: All names have been changed.
Photo credit: http://stianbl.deviantart.com/art/Toxic-Syringes-Colorful-125931103