Invisible, part II
Now that I know that at least a few people still look in on this blog occasionally, I sort of wish I had refrained from venting after my experience the other day. I fear that in recounting the story I made myself sound like I had somehow managed to do something heroic while those other pathetic souls just stood there and watched her burn. The truth is that I really didn't want to go across the street and had I been on that side to begin with I probably would just have run (I didn't mention the fact that she was in front of a gas station). The woman who got there ahead of me was really the hero because she never paused long enough to think about herself. She just acted in the interest of the other. She helped a burning woman while I just helped a woman who had been burned.
For the next couple of days I really wanted to go by the hospital to find out if she was oaky, maybe to find out her name and perhaps to tell her that me and a few of my friends had prayed for her. The hospital is only a couple of blocks from where I work. But I think, in the end, I was too afraid to get too close and to enter her suffering (which, I take it, goes far deeper than just the burns on her body). I've said on more than one occasion when teaching that we all want to help the poor, we just don't want to know them. I think I proved my own point on this occasion.
Almighty and most merciful God, we remember before you all poor and neglected persons whom it would be easy for us to forget: the homeless and the destitute, the old and the sick, and all who have none to care for them. Help us to heal those who are broken in body or spirit, and to turn their sorrow into joy. Grant this, Father, for the love of your Son, who for our sake became poor, Jesus Christ our Lord. (Book of Common Prayer, 1979)
For the next couple of days I really wanted to go by the hospital to find out if she was oaky, maybe to find out her name and perhaps to tell her that me and a few of my friends had prayed for her. The hospital is only a couple of blocks from where I work. But I think, in the end, I was too afraid to get too close and to enter her suffering (which, I take it, goes far deeper than just the burns on her body). I've said on more than one occasion when teaching that we all want to help the poor, we just don't want to know them. I think I proved my own point on this occasion.
Almighty and most merciful God, we remember before you all poor and neglected persons whom it would be easy for us to forget: the homeless and the destitute, the old and the sick, and all who have none to care for them. Help us to heal those who are broken in body or spirit, and to turn their sorrow into joy. Grant this, Father, for the love of your Son, who for our sake became poor, Jesus Christ our Lord. (Book of Common Prayer, 1979)
I wonder at my own inactivity sometimes. Although I still think you did something that day.
Posted by Nate | 9:21 PM