She rocked back and forth there on the deck as the sun sank lower in the western skies. It had been one of those days that she was so happy to be alive. So happy to let her heart fly free in the warm breeze.
She sat there wondering...what was happening to her? She had changed somehow. Oh yes she will forever be a farmers wife. She will always love the feel of wind in her hair, sunshine on her face, raindrops dripping off her nose. She will forever love to sit among the pasture grass on a warm summers night, and watch as the sun turns the western sky to oranges and golds. Or raise her face to let the moonbeams dance all around her, or thrill to the call of the coyote. She will always love the simple country life.
She always loved the springtime on the farm. She loved to watch as tiny little buds popped out on a tree limb. She loved to see the pear trees spread their white cloud of blossoms against the dark blue sky. She loved to kneel there in the flower beds, take her hand and wipe away the leaves and see there in the dirt, the tiny red bud of the peonies, or the new tiny sprouts of the bushes. She loved to watch a mother cow lick her brand new baby. Yes she loved the springtime. But deep inside her heart something new was budding. Something new that was giving her peace, giving her contentment. Something that was new to her.
New doors were opening up to her. She has given in to that "desire" that for all her life had laid silent there deep within her. That desire that has caused her to forget herself and reach out. Reach out in deep compassion to those who are hurting.
As one door opens and leads to another, she slowly goes through them, one at a time. With each door, her heart is full of wonder, full of love, full of compassion. Around each new door there is a reward waiting for her. Around each door someone has given to her a gift. A gift of love, need, tenderness, thankfulness. She is the receiver. She is the one who bows her head and gives thanks.
Just yesterday she walked through a set of elevator doors into a world she never thought would be hers. But that little "hidden desire" deep inside her heart gave her the strength to say "Yes I will go." It gave her the strength to walk through those elevator doors into the ICU of a rather large hospital. She was going to spend five hours in this brand new world. For five hours she would have the wonderful privilege of being a volunteer.
She had the privilege of cleaning the coffee pot and making fresh coffee for those families who were carrying a heavy load. She had the privilege to put a clean pillowcase on a blue pillow and hand it and a blanket to a young man who sat there so tired, after being up all night with a loved one. She showed him a room all quiet where he laid down on the floor and was out like a light bulb. She tiptoed out the door and whispered to him. "Now you just sleep. I'll check on you before I leave."
She had the privilege of dusting off the end tables in the family rooms, and picking up blankets and pillows, and sheets left behind. She had the privilege of changing a bed into a couch once again, to set there waiting for the next sleepy someone to use it. She then went into the little kitchen and wiped down all the counter tops and little tables. She made sure that there was sugar, creamer, cups and napkins.
She had the privilege of saying "good morning" to tired men and women sitting there looking out into nowhere. She had the privilege of giving a smile to someone as she quietly passed them in the hall. She had the privilege of going to the side of a crying man or woman, and quietly placing her arm around their shoulder and just standing there with them for a few minutes, not a word said, just holding them close, and then quietly walking away.
Yes she loved this new world of concern, of heart breaks, of tears, of weariness. She loved making this a little home away from home. Her heart could feel. Her heart cared. Her heart cried.
It was time for her to leave. One more time she tiptoed into that dark quiet room. She bent to look at her sleeping young man there on the floor. Then she turned, walked out of the room, and through those elevator doors and pushed the button for first floor.
Now she sits here on her deck as the sun goes down. She is wondering "is that young man sitting beside his loved one? Has someone put a clean pillowcase on the blue pillow and made the little couch into a bed? Has someone cleaned the coffee pot and made a new pot setting there ready to use? Are the lights out and the night light softly burning?"
Yes, her heart has become divided. Part of it is, and always will be, a farmer's wife. Part of it will always love the smell of new cut alfalfa. It will always thrill to the sound of the distant rumble of thunder and the flashes of lightening as it lights the sky. She will always thrill at the sound of the bull frog down at the pond. But half of it will always be sitting quiet beside a little crippled man or woman. It will be holding someone while they cry. It will be touched by the tears of another. It will be holding the hand of an anxious little lady and telling her "I will be here with you . Just close your eyes and sleep." Her heart will always bow and say thank you to God for helping her to be willing. For opening up these doors to her. For giving her the strength to walk through them. For the many gifts that it has given her.
She sat there wondering...what was happening to her? She had changed somehow. Oh yes she will forever be a farmers wife. She will always love the feel of wind in her hair, sunshine on her face, raindrops dripping off her nose. She will forever love to sit among the pasture grass on a warm summers night, and watch as the sun turns the western sky to oranges and golds. Or raise her face to let the moonbeams dance all around her, or thrill to the call of the coyote. She will always love the simple country life.
She always loved the springtime on the farm. She loved to watch as tiny little buds popped out on a tree limb. She loved to see the pear trees spread their white cloud of blossoms against the dark blue sky. She loved to kneel there in the flower beds, take her hand and wipe away the leaves and see there in the dirt, the tiny red bud of the peonies, or the new tiny sprouts of the bushes. She loved to watch a mother cow lick her brand new baby. Yes she loved the springtime. But deep inside her heart something new was budding. Something new that was giving her peace, giving her contentment. Something that was new to her.
New doors were opening up to her. She has given in to that "desire" that for all her life had laid silent there deep within her. That desire that has caused her to forget herself and reach out. Reach out in deep compassion to those who are hurting.
As one door opens and leads to another, she slowly goes through them, one at a time. With each door, her heart is full of wonder, full of love, full of compassion. Around each new door there is a reward waiting for her. Around each door someone has given to her a gift. A gift of love, need, tenderness, thankfulness. She is the receiver. She is the one who bows her head and gives thanks.
Just yesterday she walked through a set of elevator doors into a world she never thought would be hers. But that little "hidden desire" deep inside her heart gave her the strength to say "Yes I will go." It gave her the strength to walk through those elevator doors into the ICU of a rather large hospital. She was going to spend five hours in this brand new world. For five hours she would have the wonderful privilege of being a volunteer.
She had the privilege of cleaning the coffee pot and making fresh coffee for those families who were carrying a heavy load. She had the privilege to put a clean pillowcase on a blue pillow and hand it and a blanket to a young man who sat there so tired, after being up all night with a loved one. She showed him a room all quiet where he laid down on the floor and was out like a light bulb. She tiptoed out the door and whispered to him. "Now you just sleep. I'll check on you before I leave."
She had the privilege of dusting off the end tables in the family rooms, and picking up blankets and pillows, and sheets left behind. She had the privilege of changing a bed into a couch once again, to set there waiting for the next sleepy someone to use it. She then went into the little kitchen and wiped down all the counter tops and little tables. She made sure that there was sugar, creamer, cups and napkins.
She had the privilege of saying "good morning" to tired men and women sitting there looking out into nowhere. She had the privilege of giving a smile to someone as she quietly passed them in the hall. She had the privilege of going to the side of a crying man or woman, and quietly placing her arm around their shoulder and just standing there with them for a few minutes, not a word said, just holding them close, and then quietly walking away.
Yes she loved this new world of concern, of heart breaks, of tears, of weariness. She loved making this a little home away from home. Her heart could feel. Her heart cared. Her heart cried.
It was time for her to leave. One more time she tiptoed into that dark quiet room. She bent to look at her sleeping young man there on the floor. Then she turned, walked out of the room, and through those elevator doors and pushed the button for first floor.
Now she sits here on her deck as the sun goes down. She is wondering "is that young man sitting beside his loved one? Has someone put a clean pillowcase on the blue pillow and made the little couch into a bed? Has someone cleaned the coffee pot and made a new pot setting there ready to use? Are the lights out and the night light softly burning?"
Yes, her heart has become divided. Part of it is, and always will be, a farmer's wife. Part of it will always love the smell of new cut alfalfa. It will always thrill to the sound of the distant rumble of thunder and the flashes of lightening as it lights the sky. She will always thrill at the sound of the bull frog down at the pond. But half of it will always be sitting quiet beside a little crippled man or woman. It will be holding someone while they cry. It will be touched by the tears of another. It will be holding the hand of an anxious little lady and telling her "I will be here with you . Just close your eyes and sleep." Her heart will always bow and say thank you to God for helping her to be willing. For opening up these doors to her. For giving her the strength to walk through them. For the many gifts that it has given her.
Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThank you for another heart touching account. You slay me. Make my heart ashamed of all my selfish ways.
ReplyDeleteYour heart touching post reminds me of the simple but poignant lines of a hymn, "Mine the privilege to labor."
ReplyDelete<3 you make Be wonder and yearn To help oThers dear cousin :)
ReplyDeleteYour life's story is an interesting read, and I'm always looking forward to the next page!
ReplyDelete