Skip to main content

The Beauties, the Virtues, the Graces...

Last night, I found myself sitting in an emergency room with my love and his relative. We discovered that he had been taken to the hospital earlier in the day and immediately rushed over to check on him. Soon I was settled in among the friends and family--soaking in the Spanish and quietly honored by the way they attempted English with me.

It wasn't long before some friends showed up. One guy walked in with a grocery bag filled with water, food, a blanket, and some other items to keep the patient occupied--and the biggest smile I have ever seen. This guy was so proud of himself. He dropped off the bag and pulled from another some food for himself. He commenced eating and watching the television.

Later, we returned to the room and this guy was curled up in a chair, wrapped in his jacket--sleeping. I know from the pictures that he was there for the release from the hospital and is currently at the guy's house checking on him.

What I find so interesting about this situation is that the guy has the worst Spanish I have ever heard. I leaned over to my love and whispered, "I don't understand anything he says." He smiled at me and replied, "No one does. He's crazy." I've watched the amusement in their eyes as they watch his antics.

And based on my observations of him, I agree with that statement. Yet, it hasn't escaped me the amount of kindness and concern he showed for his friend in a time of need. It takes a lot for someone to stay in a hospital overnight. He was the only one who thought--of his own volition--to bring needed comforts for the patient.

John Steinbeck wrote the book, Cannery Row, to explore his idea that even the least among us are people of great value and beauty. He describes a ragtag group of bums as "the Beauties, the Virtues, the Graces..." This idea rolled around in my head and heart last night, eventually resting in the place that reminds me God is at work all around us, and often in ways and people we would likely neglect to notice.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Pardon the Interruption

It's 10:00. My race clothes are laying across the top of the dog crate. I've already consumed my all-natural sleep aid. The alarm is set for 4:45 in the morning. I should be sleeping, but my mind is spinning at an unnatural rate. Remember this poem ? The subject of that poem married just a few weeks ago, and I just finished looking through his wedding photos. It's a strange feeling. Not one of loss. Or Regret. Or even wistfulness. I'm thoroughly happy for both of them in a way that will seriously not make sense to most of the people I know. I suppose there will always be an odd sense of knowing in a situation like this. I know the feel of those lips. I've seen that look in his eyes. What I felt for him was real and pure and drives the feeling of satisfaction that is currently overwhelming me. I love knowing that he's in love--even if it's not with me. I even saved my favorite photo to my computer because the image stirred something in me that needs to be sti...

On Muchness

A dear friend confessed to me last night that he had lost his muchness and found it again. I confessed the same and even admitted the ridiculous series of events that recently sapped my own muchness. That little confession seemed to do wonders. It's so easy to fall out of step with myself. In fact, I do it quite naturally. Growing up in a Christian home, I took to heart the instructions to love my neighbor more than I love myself. Oh, wait! I just checked the scripture. "Love your neighbor as yourself." I may have been doing this the wrong way. I ended 2010 with the resolution that I would no longer make decisions out of fear. I am starting 2011 with the resolution to make decisions based on what I want. I've struggled with this because I've always believed that I should consider the needs and wants of others before my own. I'd like to think this is a valiant approach, but the truth is that it only leads to martyrdom...and I don't think I was given the opp...

TMI and Tidal Waves

As usual, it's been a busy week around these parts, and none of my activities this week involved running. If my grandmother could hear at the moment and complete a sentence without hacking up a lung, she'd ask me what's wrong. I'd have to confess that my eczema has flared up in this oh-so-cold-there's-ice-on-my-car south Florida weather, and my skin is so itchy that I have bruises up and down my limbs from all the scratching I've been doing. There are some days I'm relieved to know men with calloused hands. (Before you take that last comment too seriously, remind yourself that I am writing this at 9:30 on a Friday night.) Anyway... I met up for coffee with someone last night who proved to stoke my creative juices. I'll spare you the details of the conversation, but I did have to stop him mid sentence to point out that that particular conversation will most definitely become part of "La Isla Encontrada." Fortunately, he agreed to it, and I fully...