As God looks upon you, what He sees is His loving, kind Spirit living within your soul.
~Marie T. Morrison~
Friday, March 2, 2012
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
TENDING TO A STRANGER
Off to visit a hospital patient, I saw that my coveted handicapped parking place, along the curb and close to the hospital’s front door, was already occupied. This meant I had to park among the mass of vehicles in the large lot, joining the unfortunate, making what looks like an eternal trip to reach the front door. From my manual wheelchair, it is especially challenging, as it is an uphill jaunt to get to the building. Getting out of my car, ready to pull out my chair, I noticed an elderly man to the left of me, oxygen tank in tow, leave his car to make the toiled walk. Beyond him, I noticed that a car was pulling away from ‘my’ curbside space! What luck! I was smiling, calling out accolades to myself that I got my spot after all! I popped back into the car, backed out of my parking place and proceeded forward, hoping no one would get the spot before I did my u-turn to grab the empty site. I cheered as I pulled into one of only two reserved places, my energy now reserved for the hospital’s uphill entryway and hallway, once I got into the building itself.
My door opened, barely out of the car, I saw the man who had previously parked to the left of me just now reaching the sidewalk, in front of me, to my right. He was bent over in exhaustion, his curled salt and pepper hair blowing with the strong breeze, his olive green quilted jacket flapping in the wind. He was carrying his tank of oxygen, appearing quite heavy in his current condition. My heart ached, wishing there had been more handicapped spaces so that he, too, did not have far to go. I said a short prayer he would be okay, knowing he still had to walk more steps to visit someone inside.
Not even knowing I was noticed, the gentleman called out to me. “Ma’am,” he asked, “is this the entrance to the emergency room?” I said no, he was quite far from its entry. I pointed out where it was, oh, so far away. It might as well have been in the next county. I looked at him and thought of my curbside spot. I knew what I had to do. “Would you like a”; before I finished my sentence, he said yes, getting quickly into my car.
As he bent over the seat, heavily breathing while inhaling the oxygen, I could hardly take a breath, scared I would not get him the emergency admittance on time. All I could do was ask God and our guardian angels to get us there in time. As we drove closer to the building, I asked him if he would like me to help him get inside. He accepted, saying he may collapse before he got to the doors. I am wondering how I was going to do this, using a wheelchair myself, but knew God would lead me.
Pulling up to the emergency room parking lot, a guard stopped me, asking if I would like valet parking. I said no, I was not acquainted with the gentleman in my car, I had found him in the parking lot; I would get him into admissions and be right back out. A puzzled look came over her face with me not fully comprehending why. What on earth did I mean I did not know this person in the car and found him in the parking lot? I’d be puzzled, too, if I had heard this said to me! As I stepped out from my driver’s seat, I called out him to stay right there, I was going to put him in my wheelchair and push him in.
I usually cannot hold five pounds in my hands, yet I was lifting this ailing man, probably weighing 150 pounds out of my car and placing him in my chair. I usually cannot walk anywhere without extreme discomfort and pain, but I was pushing him down the porch and on into the building, not feeling one thing, calmly telling him we were almost inside.
Once there, a young male nurse, greeted us with a smile. I quickly said I did not know this gentleman, that he needed help. I added that it was my wheelchair, could he please get another one. His warm eyes turned to ones of complete confusion. I believe he was thinking that perhaps I, too, should be admitted, for my own perplexed state of mind. He repeated what I said, with a question at the end of his statement, “You don’t know this man? This is your chair?” I was nodding in agreement, saying I found him in the parking lot. While I was quite serious, the nurse was doing his best to stifle his laughter.
The verbal exchange took only a minute, the poor gentleman waiting for a chair as I still grasped his shoulders, in fear of him slipping out of the chair. He called out he couldn’t breathe, which switched gears for the staff, rushing for another wheelchair, shifting him to a new seat.
I turned to go, this sweet man calling out “God bless you!” to me several times, my blessing him in return. Behind me I was surprised to see the guard who had met me at the entrance, asking if she could push me out in my chair. I think she likely came in to hear my story about this stranger in my car, wondering if I often find people in parking lots.
A few hours later, I called the emergency room, the same male nurse answering the phone. I said I was worried the family of this particular gentleman would not know where he had parked his car, I could provide the information. He said the man was doing better, he would be able to drive home. I was still worried; it was now dark, could someone take him to his car. He laughed, assuring me he would see that he got a ride.
Oh! As for my coveted parking place? It was still there after I did get back to the hospital lot that afternoon, waiting for me, just as I had left it. God took care of me from start to finish!
~Marie T. Morrison~
My door opened, barely out of the car, I saw the man who had previously parked to the left of me just now reaching the sidewalk, in front of me, to my right. He was bent over in exhaustion, his curled salt and pepper hair blowing with the strong breeze, his olive green quilted jacket flapping in the wind. He was carrying his tank of oxygen, appearing quite heavy in his current condition. My heart ached, wishing there had been more handicapped spaces so that he, too, did not have far to go. I said a short prayer he would be okay, knowing he still had to walk more steps to visit someone inside.
Not even knowing I was noticed, the gentleman called out to me. “Ma’am,” he asked, “is this the entrance to the emergency room?” I said no, he was quite far from its entry. I pointed out where it was, oh, so far away. It might as well have been in the next county. I looked at him and thought of my curbside spot. I knew what I had to do. “Would you like a”; before I finished my sentence, he said yes, getting quickly into my car.
As he bent over the seat, heavily breathing while inhaling the oxygen, I could hardly take a breath, scared I would not get him the emergency admittance on time. All I could do was ask God and our guardian angels to get us there in time. As we drove closer to the building, I asked him if he would like me to help him get inside. He accepted, saying he may collapse before he got to the doors. I am wondering how I was going to do this, using a wheelchair myself, but knew God would lead me.
Pulling up to the emergency room parking lot, a guard stopped me, asking if I would like valet parking. I said no, I was not acquainted with the gentleman in my car, I had found him in the parking lot; I would get him into admissions and be right back out. A puzzled look came over her face with me not fully comprehending why. What on earth did I mean I did not know this person in the car and found him in the parking lot? I’d be puzzled, too, if I had heard this said to me! As I stepped out from my driver’s seat, I called out him to stay right there, I was going to put him in my wheelchair and push him in.
I usually cannot hold five pounds in my hands, yet I was lifting this ailing man, probably weighing 150 pounds out of my car and placing him in my chair. I usually cannot walk anywhere without extreme discomfort and pain, but I was pushing him down the porch and on into the building, not feeling one thing, calmly telling him we were almost inside.
Once there, a young male nurse, greeted us with a smile. I quickly said I did not know this gentleman, that he needed help. I added that it was my wheelchair, could he please get another one. His warm eyes turned to ones of complete confusion. I believe he was thinking that perhaps I, too, should be admitted, for my own perplexed state of mind. He repeated what I said, with a question at the end of his statement, “You don’t know this man? This is your chair?” I was nodding in agreement, saying I found him in the parking lot. While I was quite serious, the nurse was doing his best to stifle his laughter.
The verbal exchange took only a minute, the poor gentleman waiting for a chair as I still grasped his shoulders, in fear of him slipping out of the chair. He called out he couldn’t breathe, which switched gears for the staff, rushing for another wheelchair, shifting him to a new seat.
I turned to go, this sweet man calling out “God bless you!” to me several times, my blessing him in return. Behind me I was surprised to see the guard who had met me at the entrance, asking if she could push me out in my chair. I think she likely came in to hear my story about this stranger in my car, wondering if I often find people in parking lots.
A few hours later, I called the emergency room, the same male nurse answering the phone. I said I was worried the family of this particular gentleman would not know where he had parked his car, I could provide the information. He said the man was doing better, he would be able to drive home. I was still worried; it was now dark, could someone take him to his car. He laughed, assuring me he would see that he got a ride.
Oh! As for my coveted parking place? It was still there after I did get back to the hospital lot that afternoon, waiting for me, just as I had left it. God took care of me from start to finish!
~Marie T. Morrison~
Monday, February 27, 2012
A GRATIFYING BURDEN
Taking on a Herculean task is most unpleasant. To imagine this burden as gratifying, while asking for a little help from God, lifts the heavy load. The heart, mind and soul are nourished, feeling at peace.
~Marie T. Morrison~
~Marie T. Morrison~
Sunday, February 26, 2012
THE TWO OF US
What a close friend our shadow is. It is nearby as we look out to the beyond and becomes our constant companion as we move in motion. In prayer, its hands raise to the heavens with ours the surrounding silence leaving peace and serenity upon the soul. The togetherness between the two of us strengthens our spirits, giving us dauntless courage to meet the unexpected in each day.
~Marie T. Morrison~
~Marie T. Morrison~
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)