THE WINDOW

(These One A Days are added to each day)

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacations.

Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods. His hospital-room-world was broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside the window that his roommate described.

A park with a lovely lake with ducks and swans playing on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walking arm in arm amidst flowers of every color. An exciting view of the city skyline in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by so beautifully that although the other man couldn’t hear the band, he could see it in his mind’s eye.

Many days passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the man by the window had died peacefully in his sleep.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to accommodate his request and after making sure he was comfortable, left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. As he strained to turn to look out the window he saw nothing but a blank wall.

When the nurse returned he shared with her all that the man had described, and then asked her what could have compelled his deceased roommate to describe such wonderful things… that never really existed.

“Well, he was blind,” she replied, “but not blind to your needs. Perhaps he knew some-thing my mother taught me a long, long time ago. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.”

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.” Matthew 5:7

Have you visited my “Life Is Not What It Is But What You Make It” site. Go to Google and where it says “Google Search” type in “Wyrick’s Writings”