Francis Gay
Weeping angels deal with more pain than we can ever imagine
Do be careful how you go, In wintry days of frost and snow,
It’s good to keep a friendly eye, On elderly neighbours as we pass by; Housebound folk are pleased to see, Someone just for some company, Sparing some time along the way, Will be sure to brighten someone’s day.
Ihad a short, routine stay in hospital recently.
Now, I have always had the highest regard for our NHS workers, and nothing I saw during my stay detracted from that, but something I shouldn’t have seen enhanced it.
Looking for a nurse for some trivial reason, I opened the door to what turned out to be a storage cupboard.
There was a nurse in there, all right. She had gone into the cupboard to have a weep after dealing with one more heart-breaking incident.
Moments later, she was back on the wards, a picture of smiling efficiency, helping everyone she could.
God bless our doctors and nurses – they deal with more than we could ever imagine.
And more than they would ever have us know.
Just on a notion, Eddie typed, “Can you tell me something beautiful?” on his Facebook page.
In the next couple of hours, he had more than 50 responses. People talked about their children, grandparents, the possibilities of the new day, the feather-like patterns the frost had left on their windscreen, the view from a local hill-top, music that caused them to well up with tears of joy…
“One or two said nice things about me,” he told me. “Like they thought I might need cheering up.”
“And, did you?” I asked.
“Not really,” he replied. But, you know what I liked? That over 50 people started their day off thinking about things that lifted their spirits. We should ask questions like that more often.”
Beautiful!
Memorials come in different forms.
Some are like statues, impressive but cold. Others are more ephemeral, but live on in people’s hearts.
Jen’s memorial for her gran Jessie is in between. She asked everyone who knew her gran to write one kind thing they remembered her doing.
The idea was that, in the years after the funeral, family and friends might repeat those kindnesses however they could. Hearts would be warmed and the book will be a permanent record.
Jen hoped for one good deed for every year of her gran’s life. Gran was 92. But she wasn’t really surprised when the memories far exceeded a hundred.
A life re-played through all its best bits, benefitting people she might never have met, and carried out by folk who loved her. Gran Jessie would have been delighted with Jen’s memorial.
On visiting Jack’s church, a man with behavioural issues kept talking through the sermon.
A woman, two rows in front of him, turned around and hissed, “Be quiet!”
Not long after, visibly upset, the man got up to leave. Jack intercepted him by the door, said he was sorry, gave him a hug, and wished him a better day.
After the service, I watched the woman approach my friend. I expected harsh words. I didn’t expect him to hug her - or her to cry on his shoulder!
When I asked, he explained she had been having a very difficult week and already felt bad for her rudeness.
“Did you know that before you hugged her?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “But I do know that hurt people hurt people. And a hug is the best solution to any dispute.”
For both sides, it seems.