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A half-hour with Roger
by Christopher Ruff
I met Roger the other day (not his
real name). It was a Sunday afternoon and I
decided to take some of my own advice. You see, in
the Appendix on service opportunities in the
Discipleship Series books, I urge people not to forget the things that are “right under
their nose,” like an elderly or lonely neighbor, or a
nursing home a few blocks away.
Well, I realized there was a
nursing home a few blocks from our house that I had yet
to visit. So I overcame that bit of inertia
that seems to crop up when I want
to act on a good resolution, and out the door I went.
The nursing home was simple but
nice enough, and I was impressed with how kind-hearted
the staff seemed. Sometimes you don’t see that. I told
the receptionist at the desk that I lived just a few
blocks away and I thought maybe there would be some
residents there who would enjoy a visit, residents who
maybe didn’t have family nearby to visit them. She
thought for a minute, then took me down the hall to
introduce me to Roger.
When I walk in the room Roger is
lying in bed with his right ankle in a cast. It’s
broken, he tells me, and he is at the nursing home for a
couple of weeks for it to mend so he can go back to his
daughter’s house again. She lives with her husband “up
on the ridge.”
We get to talking and I learn that
Roger is a retired dairy farmer. He looks to be in his
seventies. Milk prices are better now, he says, but he
remembers when it was much tougher. He tells me he has
a daughter and a son. His son is in the
military—probably will make it a career—and he and his
wife are living in England where he is stationed. They
really like it there, but will be coming home for the
birthday of his daughter-in-law’s mother in April. Boy,
is she excited.
Roger’s own daughter and
son-in-law, the ones he lives with up on the ridge, love
animals. His daughter especially loves cats, and you
can tell when you are pulling into their driveway by all
the animals in the yard. Roger makes a point to tell me
exactly where their house is in case I’m ever in the
neighborhood.
After some more conversation, I
look at my watch and see it’s time for me to go. I have
to get to my son’s high school celebration of their
State basketball championship. I shake Roger’s hand and
tell him maybe I’ll see him again before he’s all healed
up. I leave the nursing home with a sense of peace and
joy in my heart. Making a visit like that is such an
easy and rewarding thing to do. I don’t feel heroic—I
feel humbled and grateful.
The high school celebration is nice,
but spending time with Roger is the highlight of my day. |
