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Simple Acts of Kindness
For about the last two or three years, I have been a volunteer patient advocate for friends and relatives who have medical problems. I don’t try to broadcast this, but word gets around. Many of the friends I have helped also attend Saturday evening Mass. Often seated one row in front of me is a woman who appears very frail and unsteady. She has a very strong tremor that involves not only her hands but rocks her head and body. A few months ago she spoke to me by name as I was leaving church. I was stunned that she knew my name and assumed she wanted to start a conversation, but other people were greeting me and she was gone before that could happen.
I did not see her again for many weeks. Last week she sat before me once again in the pew ahead. At some point in the service I felt a strong impulse to reach out to her. At the time for sharing the sign of peace, I leaned forward, touched her shoulder and someone kinder, and I hope wiser than me, said, “I haven’t seen you in a while, welcome back.”
She turned, smiled and said, “If you only knew.”
She once again hurried away at the end of Mass. I am not sure in any way what this portends, but I do believe that every simple act of kindness is a seed that is planted by us but tended to by God.
Published in General
We can’t begin to measure how these simple gestures, which we often miss giving because we are so pre-occupied, can be treasured by another. Thank you for reaching out as you did.
Do it again next time.
Have you considered mentioning a possible problem to the pastor?
A good reminder to speak up when we sense a need. Thank you.
I’ve been thinking of asking our parish priest to let parishioners know that they can contact me to support them on their hospital visits. Quite a few have asked me to accompany them when they are scheduled for a surgery, I don’t know why. Just being a driver and companion can make a big difference for many people.
The greatest irony of life is that our biggest pleasure comes from reaching out to another, providing help, or just giving the gift of a smile. Why should we exert ourselves for no tangible benefit? Yet the pleasure derived from giving is far greater than that of receiving. According to Jewish tradition, the beggar who receives your dollar gets credit for your good deed since, without him, you never would have given that dollar.
During my years as a pediatrician, particularly when I was in training, I took care of many children with terminal illness. I eventually learned not to be afraid of having difficult conversations with them. Whenever the conversation became uncomfortable they would always let me off the hook. They were quite aware of my discomfort and responded in a far more compassionate way than I deserved. I learned then what it has taken me too long to realize; people who are facing death are the least needy people on the planet. I have never felt more compassion and kindness from any patient than from the patient who has recognized the presence of death in the room.
Take from that what you will.
Dylan Thomas wrote, “Rage, rage against the dimming of the light!” I think he was talking about aging more than dying. I have seen many patients fight for their last breath but not without also seeing the gratitude they find in each breath.
As a hospice volunteer who occasionally visits patients, I’m ready for anything the patient (or the caregiver) wants to talk about. There are too many people who pull away with these sad topics, but I try to always be present.
Another example.
The closest thing to a truly transcendent religious experience in my life occurred many years ago at 2AM in an ICU cubicle. At about 11 that evening I had responded to a Code Red alert that involved resuscitation of a young woman in the maternity ward. She had thrown a blood clot into her lungs and was actively dying. There were other doctors and medical students ahead of me in the recovery process so I mostly watched until it was obvious that she was back to life and there was nothing else to see. I headed back to bed. I was next in line as an admitting intern, so I was not surprised to get the call that I needed to come to the ICU to write the admitting orders for her transfer into that unit. What do you say to someone who is now alert but has been brought back to life from death?
I didn’t need to say anything. This young woman assumed I had been responsible for her survival and with somewhat halting and breathless words, proceeded to describe the joy she felt at being alive. She didn’t actually say that she had been floating above everything as she was dying and then she had to make a choice whether or not to return to her body but the joy she expressed filled the silence and darkness of the room. She had seen or experienced something indescribable.
What she expressed was palpable joy and profound peace.
Such is life.