Gerry
12-19-2007, 01:55 PM
The occasion was a visit to our local Hospice. They had their annual buy a light for the Christmas tree and that night was the big switch on. We had wrapped up warm for the night was one of those crispy cold and everyone was shrouded in their own personal fog blanket each time they breathed out.
Every year as we drove across the big bridge the Hospice tree with its bright white lights stood like a lighthouse guarding shipping from the danger lurking beneath the surface.
This was our first time going to see the lights switched on so we had no idea what to expect. As we came within a few hundred yards of the entrance the traffic parked up on the hard shoulder was our first clue just how many people were going to be there tonight.
We pulled in and joined the families slowly and respectfully walking down the twisting tree lined avenue softly lit by hidden bulbs throwing their light up into the every green trees. No naked trees looking like skeletons here as we all silently walked down like a cortège on a final walk.
The final turn on the avenue unfolded the magnificence of the red brick bungalow like a beautiful family home. The well varnished wooden front door dressed with gleaming brass fittings was unlike anything I've ever seen in a hospital building. We entered the welcoming porch to see a living room, bigger than most but definitely a living room with that huge homely fire crackling away as the logs spit sparks up the broad black chimney.
Everyone crushed in and bumped up on the sofas to make sure every vantage point or comfy arm of a chair had a bum planted on it. As we looked around some of the faces looked strained and in pain. Some looked grey and the bones shown through their transparent thin skin.
Then there were the smiling faces of children accompanied by one parent standing alone, hurting, remembering happier times. The parents standing alone thinking of what they had. The widow ringing her hands trying to stay strong. The widower lips clenched tight for fear of a cry slipping out if he tried to speak.
A few simple words of love and children's songs before the big windows were slide open to show us that big dark tree climbing out of the gravel into the clear night sky. No celebrity was needed to make this a spectacular night, a nurse's special touch set the tree into life as a thousand sparkling white bulbs pierced the darkness and a sigh went up to the heavens.
Our walk up that avenue was still silent and respectful but boy did we cling tightly to each other.
There was no need to ask what I wanted for Christmas.
Thank God I already had her in my arms.
By Gerry Temple
Every year as we drove across the big bridge the Hospice tree with its bright white lights stood like a lighthouse guarding shipping from the danger lurking beneath the surface.
This was our first time going to see the lights switched on so we had no idea what to expect. As we came within a few hundred yards of the entrance the traffic parked up on the hard shoulder was our first clue just how many people were going to be there tonight.
We pulled in and joined the families slowly and respectfully walking down the twisting tree lined avenue softly lit by hidden bulbs throwing their light up into the every green trees. No naked trees looking like skeletons here as we all silently walked down like a cortège on a final walk.
The final turn on the avenue unfolded the magnificence of the red brick bungalow like a beautiful family home. The well varnished wooden front door dressed with gleaming brass fittings was unlike anything I've ever seen in a hospital building. We entered the welcoming porch to see a living room, bigger than most but definitely a living room with that huge homely fire crackling away as the logs spit sparks up the broad black chimney.
Everyone crushed in and bumped up on the sofas to make sure every vantage point or comfy arm of a chair had a bum planted on it. As we looked around some of the faces looked strained and in pain. Some looked grey and the bones shown through their transparent thin skin.
Then there were the smiling faces of children accompanied by one parent standing alone, hurting, remembering happier times. The parents standing alone thinking of what they had. The widow ringing her hands trying to stay strong. The widower lips clenched tight for fear of a cry slipping out if he tried to speak.
A few simple words of love and children's songs before the big windows were slide open to show us that big dark tree climbing out of the gravel into the clear night sky. No celebrity was needed to make this a spectacular night, a nurse's special touch set the tree into life as a thousand sparkling white bulbs pierced the darkness and a sigh went up to the heavens.
Our walk up that avenue was still silent and respectful but boy did we cling tightly to each other.
There was no need to ask what I wanted for Christmas.
Thank God I already had her in my arms.
By Gerry Temple