As a child I was.... well, let's just say rather goofy. I wouldn't have been the one who today can set up your DVD recorder, show you how to use a smart phone, or knows everything that a computer can do. Yet, despite the things I like to really crab about, I was to learn how good I really had it. I've met some very special children along the way. I don't think that even at my worst, I will ever forget them.
One of the first children that I especially remember was a boy who was brought into the ER where I was working as an orderly. He reportedly pulled a dresser over on himself. That alone was suspect but also the mother blatantly lacked emotion as she came back to see him before we took him to the morgue. I wrote about this much later in my life.
William notices that John is starting to wheel the boy down to the
morgue. He gets up, goes over to the gurney, stops it, takes down a rail, tucks
the top sheet around the boy, and reaches out his hand to get the key from
John. He then slowly and gently lifts the boy in his arms and starts to carry
him toward the double doors that lead to the morgue.
When those in the back area notice what is happening, they stop what
they are doing and watch the unexpected manifestation of deep affection and
respect. A palpable holy silence fills the room as William and the boy move
further toward the doors. It is more like a religious procession. The reverent
gait seems to be in slow motion with one intentional step after another.
William pulls the body up closer to him and lovingly holds the boy even closer.
The instance is like a thoughtful father carefully carrying his sleeping child
to his bed so not to disturb the night’s peaceful rest.
As William backs through the doors with the boy, he bows his head as if
to hug him, then, with tears streaming from his face, kisses him on the
forehead. Dianne and Laurie look at each other in wonder as to what they are
witnessing. John and Cathy continue to watch in tearful awe and concern as the
doors close.
After a moment, Cathy turns back to what she needs to do and says to
John, “Wait a few minutes, then go to the dock to get the key from him.”
“He’s not coming back?”
“…Not tonight,” Cathy replies, then quickly adds, “Nor any other
night.”
As you can easily figure out, it didn't exactly happen like that, but it does contain all the elements. Except in reality, I did go back.
I later joined the army and did medical work at three different hospitals as the war was winding down. Taking care of those your own age who were so badly hurt and having many die was the normal experience. What I wasn't prepared for was the number of children.
In the midst of it all, I happened to go on a medcap to a local Catholic orphanage. Some of the children, with a little help, were going to make it okay, some needed more help than we could give them, and some were going to die within a day or two. There were so many special children. My good friend John Suozzi took a lot of photos for which I am quite grateful. For it was there that I met a boy.
I'm not sure why in a room full of children that I stopped by this particular child.
He was an Amerasian or Bui Doi. There's no need to explain that except to say that they were typically left by the door of the orphanage in the middle of the night. What I didn't expect was the connection. He was so alert and bright. I offered him my finger and he took it.
To me, this was extraordinary. It said so much as to what it meant to be human and how all the religious, political, social and scientific understandings and beliefs didn't cover what was going on.
I've had many more experiences like this, enough to wonder why children aren't the beginning point instead of the last concern. Thankfully, I think some of that is changing but in odd ways. Many who are pro life are against banning assault weapons. Many who want gun control also believe in unrestricted abortion. I'm not very impressed with either extreme.
If you support life before birth then you might want to think about what it would take to support life after birth. If you see the violence of overpowered bullets ripping through the bodies of first graders then you might want to think that at some point there is real violence in taking the the life of a baby in the womb. It's not a perfect world, but it can be a better world.
