Thursday, September 19, 2013

Stories




One of my old friends at the nursing home where my daughter and I volunteer teaching art has not been down to my art class in a few months. I didn't dare ask if he was still alive, but a few days ago, when I was there, the nurse mentioned Bob wanted to come to the class but was feeling poorly. Bob is one of the WW2 vets I interviewed for my book which is in the edit process right now. One other person I had interviewed just recently died. Fortunately, before he died, I had sent him the section of the book about him. I was so glad I had done that, since he knew before he passed how he was to be immortalized in print.

So I had a strong desire to copy the section about Bob and bring it to him that very day. With his tenuous health, I knew he might not be around when the book was published. His story was a very important part of my book and in interviewing him, I had become his friend. While my mother-in-law was alive and living in that home, I used to visit Bob regularly. His room was next door to hers. Since she had passed, and we were only at the home once a month for the art class, I had not seen Bob in months. Joe, another WW2 vet at the home had also been featured in my book. I made two copies of the chapter that contained both their stories.

After printing the chapter, I hurried to the nursing home. The residents were in the lunchroom. Bob and Joe were at the same table. Joe had just seen me a few days before at the art class. He has not missed a single class, and he is getting to be a pretty good artist. But when Bob saw me, his face lit up and he reached his arms out to me. I hurried over and hugged him, avoiding the tubes of oxygen that snaked from his nose to the tank near him.

"Oh my!" he said, "I have thought of you so many times! I am so glad to see you!!! Where have you been?"
"I have been here teaching art," I told him, "But I hear you haven't felt well enough to join us. I hope you will join us next month. We will be drawing elephants."
"I like elephants," he said, "I will certainly give it a shot!"

I sat down and he told me how his health has not been very good lately. He greatly missed our art classes, and he really missed our visits. I handed him the section I had copied of my book and told him if he found any errors, to be sure to call me. He was very happy to have the book, but not nearly as happy as having the chance to see me again! It was very humbling, and touching. I handed Joe the chapter, and he didn't say a word, but immediately began reading it.

"Joe," I told him, "Both your stories are in this chapter. You both know each other's story, right?"
They looked at each other, these two WWII vets, both air-force radio men, who had sat at the same dining room table for years, and shook their heads.
"Well now you will," I said, incredulous, "Since you will read the other's story in this chapter."
"Well that will be great," said Bob, looking at Joe.
Joe smiled but was again buried in the story.

I couldn't believe it. How could these two men with such a common history sitting at the same table for years not know each other's story? I could not believe that my book, with the chapter of both their tales would be the catalyst to open that history for them.

Who could imagine how important stories can be!? I have always loved stories. I have been an avid reader since I was a little girl. The love of reading led naturally to the love of writing. Jesus knew the power of stories, and He used them all the time in His ministry on earth. His parables convey powerful messages that stay with us in a way recitation of facts just never do. We all have stories. Perhaps the greatest service we could do for one another is share our story, and hear each other's story.

As I left the nursing home, Joe was still reading his story. He had a small grin on his face, and didn't even notice that I had said goodbye, so caught up was he in the story.

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O my people, listen to my instructions. Open your ears to what I am saying, stories we have heard and known, stories our ancestors handed down to us. We will not hide these truths from our children; we will tell the next generation about the glorious deeds of the Lord, about his power and his mighty wonders. (Psalms 78:1, 3, 4 NLT)


-save a dog- hollowcreekfarm.org
http://www.amazon.com/Vicky-Kaseorg/e/B006XJ2DWU

2 comments:

  1. Love it! Now and then a story about my son pops into my head, I send it along o him and now to his dear girlfriend.

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    Replies
    1. Stories are what tie us to our past and remain with our children in the future. Tell all your stories! Pass them on!

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