The Wisdom of the Aged

“I don’t know why they brought me down here!” The old lady said that was sitting in her wheel chair next to me.

“Well, I think it’s time for lunch.” I commented smiling at her as she gave me back a troubled look.

I was at the assisted living center to visit Marie, my former client with my agency who now lives there. I come out to visit her once and awhile and get paid a little for doing it.

The old lady continued her rant. “I eat three meals a day, you know. That’s it. That’s why I am like this.” She opened her sweater to show me her slightly swollen belly. “I try to stay small, you know, and not get fat like some of these other people here who eat everything.” She gestured to all the others gathered around the door waiting for their meals. “I only eat my three meals a day,” she repeated showing me three fingers.

“What’s your name?” I asked her.

“I’m Loretta. I’m French.” She added and said a big, long complicated French-sounding name.

“That’s pretty.” I added.

“Do you speak French?” She asked.

“No, only a little Italian and Spanish,” I replied.

I ventured further. “And were you ever married?”

“Oh, yes! To a wonderful Italian man! He used to sing opera to me every day. I loved it. And we were perfect for each other. He had a boy and I had a girl.”

“How long were you married?”

“Only four years. He went down into the jungles of the Phillipines on a special assignment for the military.”

 Suddenly, a pleasant lady came out of the door that seemed to be in charge. “Only two minutes left, folks! They’re taking out the coffee right now.” She laughed. “We’ll time them and see if that’s right.”

I focused back on our conversation. “Did your husband die?” I asked Loretta.

“He contracted malaria. I found out later that every American who went in there contracted it…”

“That’s so sad…” I said and then the door opened and lunch began and our conversation ended.

All the walkers, wheelchairs and limping people now crowded around the door. We all stood there in a bottleneck. It was Maria, a lady I had met there on Wednesday. She couldn’t get her wheelchair over the little molding in the floor. Finally, a lunchroom worker grabbed it and pulled her over it and the rest of us filed in.

The rest of the afternoon I spent listening to the ladies at my table which happened to be Maria, Marie and another lady named Dee who was heavy-set with dyed red hair. She would cough vigorously every so often. Maria was Cuban and loved hot chocolate and desserts and claimed to be diabetic.  Dee was there because she had had two strokes and fell a lot. She used to be a foster parent and spoke fondly of the children. She complained about the food, but ate it anyway. Marie, as usual, was quiet and easy-going.

Finally, it was time to go and I brought Marie to her nail appointment. I kissed her good-bye and got ready to go.

On the way out, I realized (like I always do when I visit this place) that life is a fragile thing. I am reminded that I should live it one day at a time and not worry too much about the future. After all, I could end up in an institution like this one someday, being warehoused with others that are of no longer any use to society. I felt a little pain in my hip. Oh no, I thought to myself, I hope not, but I’m getting up there myself!

So I’m going to try to be thankful in this coming year for my health, my family and God’s Provision. I am going to try not to complain or be envious of others. Age is the great equalizer and so is death.

Life is a short waiting time for a long eternity. Live, love, laugh and cry! And, don't procrastinate...do all you were created to do...

Have a Happy New Year!

Love,

Laura

The Fruit Stollen

I had seen him staring at me as I drove by his eyes wide and wearing a backward baseball cap.

Turning my head back to the road, he disappeared, somewhere down the street.

I had been driving down this long country road that seemed to go on and on for miles. Wiggins road, it was called. It passed by cow pastures and strawberry fields. I slowed down so I could find his house. He was an erstwhile client of ours, I heard and autistic.

Finally, I found a mailbox that matched his address so I pulled into a concrete driveway. The house was dilapidated and rundown and surrounded by pines, live oaks and palm trees. A broken-down hatch-back car vegetated in the driveway. I strolled up to the door as a cool breeze hit my face. No one answered my knock. I called his cell phone and there was no answer either. I stood there a few more minutes not puzzling as to what to do when suddenly I saw this tall man walking rapidly down the road towards me. He was wearing a corduroy jacket  and had a head of curly grayish blonde hair.

 “Are you John?” I asked.

“Yep.” He replied as I shivered in the early morning cold.

“I wasn’t sure you were coming. They never called me back.”

I sighed. “Yeah, sometimes that happens. Emma gets busy.”

Wait!” he yelled, “I gotta do sumpthin’!”

He ran beyond the house as I stood there waiting.

I got cold so I went and sat in my car. He finally returned only to mumble something about getting a signed check. He ran to the house next door. His sister came out a few minutes later and said it was hers. She got in her car to go to work. She had him give her other two blank checks he held in his hand and had also given him an envelope of cash.

Finally, he said good bye to her and jumped into my car. “

“Where you want to go?” I asked and before he could respond I added, “Walmart?”

“First, we gotta go to Sweet Bay. I gotta buy a fruit stollen. Its my dad’s favorite dessert.”

“Oh, okay. Do you live with your dad?” I asked as he showed me the way down the back roads through the strawberry fields.

“Yeah. I’ve lived here since 1979. My mom, dad and me moved down from New Jersey. My mom just passed away in October. Now, it’s just my dad and me. We turn here.”

I took a sharp turn and saw about twenty workers bending their backs to pick the crop. The road was paved but was only one lane. I hoped he knew where we were going and we didn’t get lost. Finally, it opened up on to Hwy 39 by the landscaping place and I knew where we were.

“So, was your mom old? I bet you miss her.”

“Yeah, I do. She was 92. She had dementia and my dad’s 89. He used to drive our old AMC station wagon. You know, the big ones that could hold nine passengers. That car had over 300,000 miles on it.

We turned into Sweet Bay and I parked and got out.

“So you never learned to drive, then.”

“No, I never did. My dad took me everywhere til he got too old. You know, we sold that car and someone’s still drivin’ it. Those old cars lasted forever.”

We walked into the store and he started looking around.

“What are you lookin’ for?” I had forgotten what he had said to me.

“The stollen. Remember?”

“I don’t think they have them. Maybe Publix does.”

He asked the lady in the bakery and she confirmed our suspicions.

So, we went to Wal-Mart and bought a bunch of stuff there including a box of lighters, six bottles of distilled water, two macaroni and cheese dinners and other grocery items.

“My sister usually takes me on Saturday, but, you know, she can’t this Saturday.”

“Yeah, it being Christmas Day.” I added.

Then, he ran from register to register looking for something.

Finally, I caught up with him. “What are you looking for?” I queried.

“My dad smokes a pipe.” He said. “He likes the different colored lighters.” He explained. “His favorite color is green.” He picked one up off a shelf. “This one will have to do.”

We finally got to an open register and got in the shortest line we could find.

“And Dad likes pears, too.” He put one pear on the belt.

“One pear? That’s all he eats?”

“Yeah, he uses the skin for his pipe. It keeps the tobacco moist.”

“Oh, okay.” Very strange, I thought.

But there were no fruit stollens at Wal-mart although he looked and looked.

Our next stop was Publix. “I bet they have them.” I repeated.

“Look!” I yelled with excitement when we walked in. “A fruit stollen!”

There they were right on a little table.

He bought two.

So we went back and he brought me into his house. It reeked as badly as he did of neglect. He wrote out the check and handed it to me when I told him the amount.

“Where’s your dad?”

“He’s still sleepin’. He sleeps until noon.”

That was my first visit with John. Now, I go there almost every Saturday to take him shopping. He likes the big band sound, so we listen to that station on the radio as we run from store to store. He is very compassionate and helps me with my shopping too.

I don’t think of him as handicapped any more. I think of the rest of us as handicapped. He is more normal than anyone I know.

So this year it’s Christmas Eve and we’re shopping again.

I doubt it will be for fruit stolen, though. His dad is not feeling very good. We are concerned he may die soon. I hope not. I don’t know if I will be able take John out any more. He will probably move in next door with his sister.

But it sure has been an adventure and God has been right there with me. I’ve learned about compassion and kindness from an unlikely person.

“Insomuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” Matthew 25:40.

May your Christmas have as much richness and blessings as mine!

Merry Christmas!

The Wisdom of the Third Grade

It was the last day before Christmas break and a warm one. I was wary of what mood the kids were in that morning as their sub teacher. You never know how it’s going to go and every day is different.

It started with one of the kids making the President’s table and she ran out of the room. It was Kendra; a shy girl with her hair all tied up in braids. We all stood to say the Pledge of Allegiance and I sang to them the Star Spangle Banner.

Next, I checked her lesson plans and, to my delight, I saw that we would be watching the Polar Express; one of my favorite Christmas movies. First, they had to do 5 different Polar Express puzzles. Most of them finished quickly except for two boys who were behind the rest all day. However, I patiently helped both of them to keep up.

After this, the special education teacher came in to teach them their fractions. She fussed a lot and was very exacting, but the kids liked her. Next, we ate lunch. Then, we came back to the room and finished the fraction packet and prepared to watch the movie.

I had Ms. Burrows from next door turn on the Smart Board and she got it on the right channel for me. Then, like magic, the movie began. Everyone changed into their pajamas and got their blankets and pillows to lie on the floor. I gave each of them a golden ticket as per the teacher’s instructions. Midway through the movie, I gave them a Christmas Tree Little Debbie cupcake and a few white chocolate pretzels. I ate a few pretzels myself.

Finally, the movie was done. We met together to discuss it and put some strips in sequence. I asked them a few questions about it. We discussed the truth and reality of God and Santa Claus. Finally, I asked them how we got the idea of giving gifts. I was expecting them to say “the three wise men”.  However, instead, Kendra raised her hand eagerly.

“I know! I know!” She yelled, her shyness temporarily overcome. “God gave us the gift of Jesus, his Son.”

It was a good answer and the wisdom of Third Grade shined through!

And her answer was so true. Jesus is the greatest gift ever and we must live our lives in the light of his love. He was born in a manger, worshipped by lowly shepherds and died on the cross for our sins. What other person in history ever came even close to Him?

So have a great Christmas! Keep believing…and trust in Him to see you through another year!

Love,

Laura