After feeling bad for him and, then for me, I realized that, once again, we have to make the best of the situation. In fact, I already have three Christmas Eve stories to relate which happened all in the course of this afternoon.
Christmas story #1:Jonathan got up to do his least favorite hospital thing of taking a shower and I was sent for supplies from the nursing station. Upon asking for shampoo,soap, etc. the woman I questioned asked who it was for. When I mentioned Jonathan's name, her face lit up. "Oh," she said, "I am praying for him. I have lifted him right up in prayer. I pray for the young ones." She smiled at me and walked away.
Christmas story #2: Last year when I was in CA with Jonathan, my teaching colleague,Kathy,gave me a silver cross to carry and said it helped her through many tough times. When I returned, I gave it back telling her that it did comfort me. It was lent to another staff member whose husband was ill and given back to me when Jonathan was readmitted here. For 2 weeks I have been looking for the cross and was upset about losing it. I looked everywhere I could think of...purse, pockets, coats, etc. Tonight, as I was walking down to get a cup of soup, I put my hand in my jeans' pocket and there it was.
Christmas story #3:Lastly, while eating my soup, I had a conversation with a very strange man who was mopping the floor in the hospital cafeteria. His conversation was about how his wife had died 6 years ago and how much he missed her, but how he knew she was with him all the time. He didn't realize, I am sure, how much his words meant to me.
So...it has been an interesting Christmas Eve. I am looking forward to my late night ride home in hopes that more angels may appear.
Merry Christmas.
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