A few minutes ago the back door to my office opened and I heard someone walk in.
"Amanda?" I asked hopefully. (You might know her as Baby Sister.)
She answered and I whimpered, "I need you."
That Baby Sister of mine...she's an angel.
It doesn't matter when or how often, if I say I need you, she's there.
Some days it's to run a deposit to the bank for me.
Other days it's to grab lunch for me.
At the moment she's out buying us lunch...with my car and my money...lest you think I take advantage of her kindness...
And she's in search of orange soda, because dang it, I've been craving it since Saturday.
I love that sister and I just wanted you to know.
I'm at the point with my blog where I can't sit and write about everything that comes to my mind.
I wanted to tell you a story last week about something that happened, but it involved someone else who might not appreciate being talked about in the blogosphere.
It was nothing negative...in fact, it was quite humorous...
But do you know how many random people come up to me in a week and say, "I read your blog."
I had no way of knowing if the person I wanted to write about reads my blog...or maybe someone who knows this person reads my blog...and so in the long run I chose to keep the story to myself.
Just to make sure.
With that said, I asked Jason if I could tell you another story and after telling him the beginning to the end of the story, he thought it would be okay.
Once upon a time, many years ago, there was a girl who I saw every Sunday at church.
I never really got to know the girl, as she made it clear that unless you were in her circle of friends, she wasn't interested in getting to know you.
I'll be honest...I wasn't a big fan of the girl, and mostly just thought she was a snob.
In the year or more that I saw her every Sunday my opinion never changed.
And when she started dating a guy who I thought was a really nice guy, I hoped that she was nicer to him than she was to the rest of us.
Last Friday I had just come out of the bathroom of my temporary hospital room.
I was adjusting the lovely and ever so modest gown they gave me when the door opened and the nurse walked in.
The nurse happened to be the girl from church.
She looked at me and asked, "Noelle, do I know you?"
I mentioned that we had gone to church together for over a year and she said, "It's great to see you!"
And all the while I'm thinking, 'She's going to do the examination? She's who is going to be taking care of me?"
But here's the thing...
When the nurse walked back into the room a little while later, and saw me in the middle of my small emotional breakdown, she sat down on the bed next to me, and just listened.
She listened to my fears and my concerns...
She gave me permission to cry my eyes out for a few minutes...
And she was as kind and compassionate as anyone could have been.
And later as I was leaving the hospital, all I could think of was that I was grateful that she had been there.
Isn't it nice that life sometimes gives us second chances to see what we might have missed the first time around?