AND WHEN YOU GET THE CHANCE TO SIT IT OUT OR DANCE... I HOPE YOU DANCE


I was on my way back from the Lab for another set of blood draw, still part of my pre-employment physical. Let me try and paint the picture as accurately as I can and maybe help you get a glimpse of what I felt with what I saw.

Out on the terrace, there was a man, standing beside a boy of about 10 or 12. From where I was looking, the man wanted to gather the boy in his arms but he seemed almost afraid to. There was a lady who was more forward in helping out the boy. She appeared to be a hospital staff but was in plain clothes.

And there was the boy, struggling to take off his sunglasses like it was the most complicated thing he had to do at that very minute. He was staggering back, leaving it up to his backside to find a chair where he could pile the lump that was himself. He had his hand over his eyes. He was in tears.

It has been a while, a very long while, since I've had to care about a stranger, well... if I may be pragmatic, they're all strangers... going through something like this. One may grow rusty from lack of practice but you know, it's not something that one grows out of. One time or another, you realize that it's been always there. Dormant, maybe, but still there.

Seeing what I saw, I felt myself drawn to the boy, wanting to offer some comfort. But of course I couldn't cause it wasn't my business and the 'proper authority' was there to see to that. Well, in a little while, I too, will be 'proper authority.' Until then, all I could do was whisper a prayer for him and wish that he finds comfort for whatever was making him sad.

The work is called nursing. The job though, is really called compassion.

And I ask myself if I am up to it again.

I guess now we'll have the chance to find out.

So help me God... and wish me luck.