A Short Story for Thanksgiving
by
Joyce T. Lang
The Old Lady lay in her hospital bed. She stared down at the Thanksgiving
meal the nurse had brought in for her. Gummy dressing with a thin slice of
“cured” turkey on top! Over cooked green beans! Some kind of chopped up
greens with a packet of salad dressing over it! A spoonful of applesauce!
And, of course, the usual carton of low-fat milk! Ugh! What she really
needed a glass of that homemade berry wine she used to make in years past.
The Old Lady’s mind wandered back to Thanksgiving dinners of the past.
Goodness! How she had loved spending days preparing the Thanksgiving feast
for her family! None of that soggy dressing for her. She carefully prepared
the cornbread dressing, using just the right amount of spices and chopped
onions. And there was always that little dash of garlic. Not overpowering,
but just enough to taste. There was no turkey for Thanksgiving dinner at her
house. The feast that was spread before her family was a delicious fresh
pork ham. Then, there were the pies… home made syrup and mincemeat ones.
There were vegetables from jars. They had been canned fresh from the garden
during the long hot summer. And, the new crop of yams, fresh dug and baked
to perfection, were sweet and juicy. The Old Lady looked down at the tray of
food again. “Goodness gracious! We wouldn’t feed the hogs this slop,” she
muttered to herself.
The Old Lady thought of her family. She saw them so seldom she probably
wouldn’t recognize her grand children if she met them on the street. When
they did come, they always brought their computer games and stayed busy
playing with them the whole time they were there. Or, they were checking the
TV to see if there was a ball game on. “What happened?” the Old Lady
wondered. “What happened to families walking in the woods enjoying the fall
colors and picking up wild nuts after the big Thanksgiving dinner? What
happened to playing ball, or doing other outside things together? What
happened to just being family, building memories and getting to know each
other on these festive occasions?”
Two of her children had called her this morning but that wasn’t like them
being there with her. Her daughters would be cooking Thanksgiving dinners
for their own growing families. Her oldest son was with a company up there
in New York State. Another one was overseas working on an oil rig. “Couldn’t
he get a job closer to home?” The Old Lady questioned his place of
employment. The youngest son always had to spend the holidays with “Her”
family, as the Old Lady referred to her daughter-in-law. “Well! He has a
mother, too. Guess the next thing they will try to do is stick me in one of
them nursing homes Humph! That’s what THEY think,” she snorted.
The Old Lady continued to feel sorry for herself. How could this have
happened to her? She had always been the strong one in the family, the one
the others came to for help. She was the one who held the family together.
Where were they when she needed them? Why had it happened? As she often
asked of herself these days, “Why me, Lord?” She had so many questions.
Questions she could not answer. She had walked out to the mailbox for years
to get her mail. What was different this time? What had gone wrong? The last
thing she remembered before waking up in the hospital was reaching in the
mail box to get the mail. She was told her neighbor drove by and found her
lying on the ground and called an ambulance. The doctors said she apparently
had a “mini” stroke. Well, if this was “mini”, she certainly wouldn’t want
to have a “major” one. She felt all right except for weakness in her left
arm and leg and wanted to go home. But the doctors said they wanted to keep
her here a few days and give her some therapy. “Lord! If keeping up that
acre of land and house and keeping the cat happy wasn’t therapy enough,” she
thought. She had told the doctor she was no good to herself nor to anyone
else. “Why, I can’t even pull my drawers up without help!” She begged to be
sent home to die. The doctor ignored her plea and kept trying to reassure
her that she may be able to walk again with the physical therapy.
A smiling young nurse came into the room to pick up the tray. She quickly
noticed the Old Lady had not eaten. “Didn’t you like your lunch?” She asked.
“If you had to eat that slop you wouldn’t be so chipper and smiling,” was
the reply.
“Oh, I did eat it. It wasn’t like my mother’s cooking. tho. We always had
those special tamales my mother made for the occasion. But, I was hungry and
it was food,” replied the young nurse as she laughed and sat down on the
foot of the Old Lady’s bed. Then, she added. “I’ll bet you really know how
to put on a Thanksgiving feast.”
Surprised at the young nurse’s sense of humor, the Old Lady asked, “Why are
you so happy? You are working and not having dinner with your family.
Holidays are supposed to be family times.”
“I asked to work today.” The young nurse shifted her position and continued
the conversation. “The regular nurse has a family. She takes care of her
mother and her three children. I am working for her so she can be with her
family this Thanksgiving. My mother is dead and I never knew my father. I
don’t have any family except my patients. You are my family.”
“But you don’t know me. You have to wait on me. Child! I can’t even bathe
and dress myself without help. Why would you want to spend Thanksgiving
waiting on me?” The Old Lady was quite puzzled.
” I do know you!” Still smiling, the young nurse continued. “You see! Before
my mother died, she was very ill. I waited on her. She had taken care of me
so I took care of her even if I was only twelve years old. I never knew much
about suffering because my mother always hid her pain from me. Her pain was
so bad in her last days, however, she couldn’t hide it. After she died, an
older neighbor, a friend of my mother, who lived alone, took me in. She made
me go to school. She encouraged me to keep up my grades. I thought I would
just get a job as a housekeeper or a waitress. But, no! She would not allow
it. She encouraged me to go to college and become a nurse. She said God had
given me a gift to take care of people and I should use it.”
The young nurse removed the food tray and left the room. With a smile on her
face, she waved to the Old Lady from the door, blew her a kiss, and said,
“I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.”
In some ways, the young nurse reminded the Old Lady of herself. After her
children were grown and away from home, she was always trading shifts with
nurses who had families … working for them on holidays … working so
children could have mothers with them on Christmas mornings, enabling them
to share Thanksgiving meals, and working for other nurses on Easter so
families could worship together. She would laugh and tell them she needed
the overtime. But, they both knew this was not the real reason she did it.
The truth was she did not want to spend holidays alone. Yes! In some ways,
her patients had been her family, too. And, she worshipped on these days,
too. Oh! It wasn’t in church or anything like that. She would always pick a
quiet time and go sit in the hospital chapel and talk to her God. She would
pray for her patients and their families. And, she prayed for her own family
and for herself.
As the Old lady dozed off to sleep her mind wandered back to Thanksgiving
Days of the past. There had been happy ones and a few sad ones. The saddest
one was right after her husband died. She had thought she could not go on
living, had nothing to live for.
Her son had wanted to bring her to his house for the big meal. She could not
go, could not make herself leave her house. She had spent the day quietly
counting God’s blessings. Surprisingly, the blessings were many more than
she could imagine. Her Thanksgiving dinner that day had been a peanut butter
and jelly sandwich.
Again, as in the past, the Old lady began counting her blessings. Her
children were grown and had families of their own. They were educated and
self-supporting, had good jobs. While she was a little jealous they no
longer depended on her, she was proud, too. She was proud she had taught
them well, taught them to be independent, and instilled in them the love of
God. She was thankful for the phone calls of her two children earlier in the
day. She was sure there would be more calls later in the evening.
As she thought of her friend who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease
recently, she was thankful the “mini” stroke had not taken away her mind and
that there was hope she would walk again. She was thankful for her minister
who had taken time out from being with his family this day to come by the
hospital and say a prayer for her. And, she was thankful for all the prayers
that were going up to her Lord for her well-being. She thanked God for the
neighbor who had seen her lying on the ground and got medical help for her,
got her to the hospital in time for medication to be administered before
more damage could be done to her body and mind.
The evening was growing late. The daylight savings time brought darkness
much too soon to suit the Old Lady. She hated long, dark, lonely evenings.
But, she was not alone this dark evening. Her Lord was standing by her bed.
He was there in the form of the young nurse He had sent to comfort her.
As thoughts continued running through her mind, she remembered a young nurse
aide on her shift many years ago. This girl had “the touch.” She could calm
the most anxious of patients. She knew just the right things to say and do
to make a patient more cooperative and agreeable. She knew how to allay the
patient’s fears. This young woman was much like the young nurse taking care
of the Old Lady. She always had a smile on her face. And like the young
nurse, she, too, knew pain and disappointment. The Old Lady had encouraged
her to go to nursing school. She had given her some of her uniforms and
medical books. She helped her study. The Old Lady had been there on her
graduation when the girl had graduated with honors and, upon receiving her
diploma, pointed the Old Lady out and thanked her before the large crown
gathered for the service.. Where was that girl now? Was she still taking
care of people? What was she doing?
The refrain from an old hymn she had learned as a child began to run through
her mind. It was a hymn sung by families gathered on the banks of the bayou
many years ago during the long hot summers. On Sunday afternoons, after
church service and dinner on the ground, there was singing, testifying, and
baptizing until late in the afternoon when it was time to go home and get
ready for the long week ahead. It was a refreshing time, a time of
preparedness for what was to come in days ahead.
_”I have found a friend in Jesus He’s ev’ry thing to me,_
_He’s the fairest of ten thousand to my soul;_
_The Lily of the valley in Him alone I see_
_ All I need to cleanse and make fully whole._
_In sorrow He’s my comfort, in trouble He’s my stay, _
_He tells me ev’ry care on Him to roll;_
_He’s the Lily of the Valley, the Bright and Morning Star, _
_He’s the fairest of ten thousand to my soul.”_
_He will never, never leave me nor yet forsake me here, _
_While I live by faith and do His blessed will;_
_ A wall of fire about me, I’ve nothing now to fear…”_
Try as she might, she could not remember the rest of the words of the hymn.
They, like so many other things lately, seemed to have escaped her mind. Her
kids were always telling her not to worry, that she was just getting old and
just needed to slow down. Until this “mini” stroke had befallen her, she had
not felt old and had laughed when they mentioned her age. Now, however, she
had to admit. “Maybe I am getting old. Maybe I am older than I think.” As
for slowing down, if she slowed down any more, she would be sitting. The Old
Lady was thankful the kids weren’t around to see just how much she had
slowed down the past year.
Just as the Old Lady was about to turn off her bed light and go to sleep,
the young nurse appeared at her bedside. She looked very tired but she was
still smiling. “We just heard from your doctor. Your physical therapy starts
tomorrow. But, don’t worry. I will be here to take you down and stay with
you through the first few sessions until you get adjusted.”
“But you don’t work the morning shift,” the Old Lady informed her.
“I will be working it the next few days. One of the nurse’s children is sick
so I promised I would be working her shift and mine the next few days,” was
the reply.
The young nurse adjusted the covers on the bed, turned off her light, and
bent over and kissed the Old Lady on the cheek and said, “I will remember
you in my prayers and I will see you in the morning.” Again, she smiled and
blew a kiss as she left the room.
The Old Lady closed her eyes. However, she did not go to sleep until much
later. She was too busy counting her many blessing …. blessing her loving
God had bestowed upon her. The least of these blessings was not the young
nurse. That blessing stood tall in her list of the many things she had to be
thankful for. It stood pretty close to the top of a very long list.
As she closed her eyes and was almost asleep, The Old Lady felt a hand on
her shoulder and a kiss on her cheek. At first, she thought it was the young
nurse. When she opened her eyes, she saw the face of her son. Her son who
was supposed to be working on an oilrig in a foreign land! How did he get
here? It was long past visiting hours. No visitors were allowed in the
hospital at night. Was she dreaming?
“Hi, Mom! I didn’t think I could get in what with it being so late, but a
young nurse saw me at the door and let me in. I was hoping I could get here
before Thanksgiving was over.” Saying that, he reached down and put his arms
around her.
The Old Lady held him tightly. “But you are supposed to be overseas. How did
you get here?”
The son took his mother’s face in his hands. “Mom! I’ve been thinking a lot
lately about all the things I have been missing. I have applied for a
position in the home office. Yes! I know it will be a lot less pay, but that
is not important. I am tired of running around the world. I want to be
closer to you. I want to be closer to my sisters and brothers. I want to be
here where I am needed.”
The Old Lady was overcome with emotion and, trying not to show it, said, “If
you hug me any tighter I am not going to be able to breathe.” The two of
them laughed and then sat quietly for a while, their quietness saying more
than a thousand words could say. Her son kissed her again and left the room
with the promise he would be back early the next morning.
The Old Lady lay awake for a long time. Her thoughts were many. What peace
and joy it brought to the Old Lady’s heart to know that her God was a loving
God and He kept His promises. Yes, He always kept His promise expressed in
the old hymn. “He would never forsake her.” He had kept that promise in some
pretty dark times in her life and He would keep his promises and not forsake
her even in these darkest of hours in her life. He would keep His promise
and she would walk again.
Knowing God was with her, and after confessing her. love for Him, the Old
Lady closed her eyes. A smile replaced the doubt and fear that had earlier
shown in her face. Now! Now, she could go to sleep. Tomorrow she would begin
physical therapy. Tomorrow, with God’s help, and with the young nurse beside
her, she would begin to learn to walk again. Tomorrow she would see her son
again.
So what do I have to be thankful for? “He will never, never leave me nor yet
forsake me…” How do I know? I know because He promised. And God keeps
promises. Thank you, my Lord!