He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most high shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, " He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in him will I trust." ...; Psalm 91:1-2
Four years ago, before Christmas, I fell, broke my right wrist and severely injured my finger joints. Emergency surgery was performed and all seemed well. Then, on December 22nd, I was called by the doctor's office and told to enter the Medical Center because a serious infection was present and I was to be given intravenous drugs to counter this. I was not told until I was admitted that the infection had to be controlled by the following morning in order to allow an operation on my joints. The "window of opportunity" was fast closing.
When I entered the hospital room, I met Sally, a proud black woman in her 80's. We gradually came to be friends - praying together and asking God for help! By 6:00am the next morning, I was told it was safe to proceed with the second operation, and I was wheeled to surgery. I awoke hours later to soft singing and praying from somewhere! It was Sally who prayed for me, "Please, God, help Helen! Please bless her at this time." She also hummed beautiful, comforting Afro-American songs. God surely heard our prayers and by December 24th the doctor signed my discharge papers. Sally too was to be released, since a nursing home had been found for her. We prayed and waited for the necessary paper work to be done.
Now another problem arose, Sally had been brought to the hospital by the police clad only in a nightgown and wrapped in a blanket. She needed to have warmer clothes. The nurses "found" a shower cap for her head, heavy stockings, and a cotton dress from the hospital supply closet, but Sally still had nothing warm to wear. Finally, one of the nurses came to dress her. This nurse had come to care deeply about Sally. When she dressed Sally in "gathered clothes", the nurse took off her beautiful red sweater and gently buttoned it on Sally. The nurse said, "Please wear this with my love. It was a gift to me several years ago and now it is my Christmas gift to you." With tears running down her cheeks, Sally could only take the nurse's hands and look into her eyes.
Although I had hoped to be home by this hour, I was granted the rare privilege of seeing Sally smile at me as the emergency team belted her onto the stretcher for transport. Her last words to me were, "God bless you", and mine to Sally, "Your faith moved mountains. God bless you!" Fifteen minutes later, I too was on my way - home for Christmas. As we rode through the icy streets, I felt humbled and joyful to have witnessed the true Spirit of Christ. God surely did move mountains and bless us all.
Thank you, God, for the gift of life and for all those who know the meaning of a gift given in love. Let us all who count ourselves Christians reach out and together, move mountains of problems for those we know and for those we have yet to meet. Amen
Contributed by Helen Y.
Published Sunday October 31, 2004
Week 49 of Liturgical Year C