Mr. William Grey

The nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the hospital bedside.

 “Your son is here,” she said to the old man.

She had to repeat the words several times before the patient’s eyes opened. 
Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, 
 he dimly saw the young uniformed Marine standing outside 
 the oxygen tent.

He reached out his hand. The Marine wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man’s limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement.

The nurse brought a chair so that the Marine could sit beside the bed. All through the night the young Marine sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man’s hand and offering
him words of love and strength.

Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Marine move
 away and rest awhile. He refused.

Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the Marine was oblivious of her and of the night noises of the hospital – the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the
 cries and moans of the other patients. 
  
 Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son all through the night.

Along towards dawn, the old man died.

The Marine released the now lifeless hand he had been holding and went to tell the nurse.

While she did what she had to do, he waited.

Finally, she returned. She started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her.

“Who was that man?”  he asked.

The nurse was startled, “He was your father,” she answered.

“No, he wasn’t,” the Marine replied. “I never saw him before in my life.”

“Then, why didn’t you say something when I took you to him?”

“I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn’t here.
 
When I realized that he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, knowing how much he needed him, I stayed.

“I came here tonight to find a Mr. William Grey. His Son
 was killed in Iraq today, and I was sent to inform him,” the Marine said. 
 “What was this Gentleman’s Name?”

The nurse with tears in her eyes answered, “Mr. William Grey.”
©anonymous

~~~~~~~~

We always have a choice of what to do. We have the choice of who we want to be with. We are never at the effect of anyone else unless we choose to give up our power or freedom to choose.
The holiday season brings to some feelings of isolation and loneliness.
It would be nurturing to us to ‘Hold a Hand’ that may be in need of compassion and love.
Keep an open heart and mind: Be kind towards someone.
©Isadora De La Vega

Namaste
I honor the place in you
in which the entire universe dwells.
I honor the place in you
which is of Love, and of Truth,
of Light and of Peace.
When you are in that place in you
and I am in that place in me.
We are One.

~~~~~

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