When You Don't Think You Have The Time To Make A Difference

Many friends and coworkers of mine already know this story but I thought that I would share it again with those who have not. I especially like sharing this story around the holidays because to me it  helps shed light on what the holidays should really be about. So with BLACK FRIDAY right around the corner I thought this is a perfect time to share.

The giving of your time can be one of the greatest gifts you could ever give.  There are a lot of people feeling down right now and not looking forward to the holidays at all because holidays take money and money is something a lot of folks don't have. I HOPE this true story may inspire people to bring back the 'real' meaning of the holidays to their family. The holidays should not be about how much we can spend spend spend and what we can get get get get but what we can give of ourselves to others. We can give our time. We can stop by a friend or family members house and ask what we could do for them. We can drive our grandma, aunt, friend, mother, to the doctor or the grocery store. We can drop a yummy entree or dessert off at a friends house. We could volunteer to clean someone's home or send a card to someone with a coupon inside for "one night of free babysitting." There are so many awesome things we can do for one another that require little or no money at all. And so my true story begins....

I was diagnosed with the horrible "C" word (Osteogenic Sarcoma to be exact) in the ninth grade at the ripe ole' age of 14. And what a two year experience that was. Kids usually get this sort of cancer in their limbs and especially in the 1980's the protocol was to amputate. But here I was a 14 year old girl and the cancer was not in my limbs but in the right side of my FACE. Needless to say I am now part bionic woman with the entire right side of my face being made of nuts, bolts, and stainless steel.

I have so very many stories that I could tell you all especially about how awesome God is and that it is only by his grace alone that I am even alive today much less the the mother of a beautiful 13 year old little girl. But the story today that I would like to share has to do with the giving of your time. Especially in this day and age where time is of the essence and everyone is so rushed. The story I am speaking of has to do with me receiving some of my chemotherapy treatments right around Christmas time..............

It was December 1987 at St. Louis Children's hospital. My parents and I were very used to the monthly routine of being admitted for a 72 hour, uninterrupted dose of that horrible poison otherwise known as CHEMOTHERAPY (cisplatin & adriamycin to be exact). We entered the hospital, checked in, and went up the elevator to the EVER SO DREADED 9th floor. The staff was always very friendly and the decor of the hallways always reflected which holiday was coming up next (there were snowflakes hanging from the ceiling...a lighted Christmas tree in the corner, yadda yadda) and as nice as all of that was, I still always knew what was coming to me and it definitely DID NOT feel like Christmas. But there we were again ....entering my room and disbursing into our usual spots. Dad went and sat in the chair....mom sat on the bench/bed by the window..... and I put on that pretty little gown with no back and the fuzzy socks with the no slip bottoms and got into the bed. In came the nurse with her IV bag and all the syringes of medication to add to it. There is the gunk in the IV bag  and that is what kills the cancer (and will literally burn holes in your clothing if it leaks...I can attest to that!) and then there's the medicine that helped me only to throw up every half hour instead of every minute and lastly there is the one that made me so sleepy that I felt as though I was comatose. Well, really I was comatose. I always had to use a bed pan because I was so weak and my body felt like lead and therefore I could not get up. I always heard all that was going on around me....the tv, my parents talking, the beeping IV's in the other rooms......I could hear, I just couldn't function much. Everyone always thought I was sleeping but I wasn't sleeping I just didn't have enough strength to talk, move, or even open my eyes. (I'm explaining all of this for a reason.)

Remember I had mentioned that it was Christmas time and there we were stuck in a hospital room. I believe that about 4 or 5 hours had gone by, but who really knows for sure, when I thought I heard some people singing. And the songs sounded like Christmas carols. The voices were pretty and seemed like they were getting closer and closer ....and they were. Eventually I was laying there in bed listening to the most beautiful Christmas carols. My mom (even though she never really knew if I heard her or not because of my comatose state) would always talk to me. With my eyes closed and my body not able to move I heard my mom say "Libby, there are Christmas carolers outside of your room." Then once again I heard the songs.... and those carolers...they were singing so pretty...."Angels we have heard on High", "I'm dreaming of a White Christmas", "Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire"(You name it and they were singing it). My mom explained to me that the carolers were wearing great big bonnets and big old fashion dresses that were made with heavy velvet and lace. "They are hunter green and black with some burgundy and gold." is what she had said. "The men have on great big top hats and the women have their hands in muffs." I could just picture it and it was peaceful and joyous. And let me tell you...for about fifteen minutes I laid there in that bed... 5ft 9in, 89 pounds skin and bones, bald head, IV's, bed sores on the bottom of my heals and blisters on my gums from so much vomiting and I felt WONDERFUL!!! yes...you read correctly...WONDERFUL!!......I felt like it really was Christmas time. It still makes me cry to this day.

Sometimes we feel like if we can't buy or do something grandeurs for someone or donate hundreds of hours or dollars a year to someone or to some organization we feel that we are just not needed. I want you all to know that THIS IS JUST NOT TRUE. That night... in that hospital room... I was given the gift of Christmas by those carolers and I know that they have no idea the impact they had on me. They sang outside my room while my curtain was pulled. I was so weak that I was unable to acknowledge them. So how could they ever know what they did for me that night? They were just a small group of people that probably needed to cook dinner, fold laundry , and taxi their kids around, but instead they donated a little bit of their time for a very short while and they gave me Christmas and a memory of a lifetime. It was better than any physical gift I could have ever received.

It has been 23 1/2 years and I think about them every time I hear a Christmas song.

Please don't ever underestimate the power of doing something for someone else.

God gives us HOPE when there seems to be none. ~ Your Friend, Lib