Today I was walking the halls looking for a lady I needed to sit and talk with for awhile. They call it "one to one" and it is meant to give those that don't have much group contact some time with just one. Talking, doing nails, reading, walking, whatever you can do for them to help ease the pain of time.
I found her, she was sitting in her room in front of the window reading a menu from the kitchen. The menu consists of 7 days, 3 meals a day, and several choices for each meal. I said hello and asked her if she would like me to read to her. She stated she was reading the menu and had been for quite some time, it all looks awful...
there isn't one thing she likes.
...how many people are waking up this beautiful sunny day without a menu of choices? Where their food will be stuff that has been packaged and shipped overseas to them - water to be added before you serve it? I wonder if they think the food is awful?
...how many people are waking up this morning without a pillow top mattress? Where their place to sleep was the wet dirt, the pillow for their head was their own matted hair. I wonder if they think about pain as we do?
...how many people are waking up this morning with the chill of the damp air bringing goose bumps to their skin. Where their blanket is the clothes that they have worn for the past week. I wonder if they think about down filled comforters, about the feel of a heavy blanket snuggled around you to fight the cold?
...how many people are waking up this morning to see their children huddled together because of cold, to know there will be no cheerio's or milk for breakfast - listening to their mournful cry that they can not comfort. I wonder if they have dreams for them, I wonder?
... I wonder as I wander through this life - seeing the discrepancies between poverty and wealth, hearing my own voice give life to the complaints of every day living... if God can hear me cry for them...
as I wake up with a leg ache from my pillow top mattress, pull off the heavy comforters, rise to get ready for the day tripping over my purchases of clothes for my job, print off the menu to bring to her for next week...
God, can you hear me cry for her? For this lady whose mind no longer lets her feel the hurt of other people. The loneliness she must feel as she looks at that menu with no vision,
and with no hunger, wonders what she will have to eat.
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