Lifetime




	WRITE 2 THE HEART Stories that are aimed "Write 2 the Heart" January 29, 2004 Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com ----------------------------------------------------------- Welcome to your latest issue of "Write 2 the Heart." You are receiving this newsletter because you requested a subscription or a friend generously forwarded their copy to you. ------------------------------------------------------------ Rose was making Janet’s life miserable. When Janet took the matter to the Lord in prayer, the answer was startling and life changing. ------------------------------------------------------------ All new subscribers will receive a free downloadable copy of the e-cookbook, “Write 2 the Heart of the Chocolate Lover.” To subscribe send a blank e-mail to: subscribe@write2theheart.com. ------------------------------------------------------------- A Lesson for a Lifetime By Janet Seever ------------------------------------------------------------ When I arrived at 6 a.m. in the large hospital kitchen, Rose was already checking nametags on the trays against the patient roster. Stainless steel shelves held rows of breakfast trays that we would soon be serving. "Hi, I'm Janet." I tried to sound cheerful, although I already knew Rose's reputation for being impossible to work with. "I'm scheduled to work with you this week." A stocky middle-aged woman with graying hair, Rose stopped what she was doing and peered over her reading glasses perched on her nose. I could tell from her sour expression she wasn't pleased to see a student worker. "What do you want me to do? Start the coffee?" I was feeling less confident by the minute. Rose sullenly nodded and went back to checking nametags. I filled the 40-cup pot with cold water and began making the coffee when Rose gruffly snapped, "That's not the way to make coffee." She stepped in and took over. "I was just doing it the way our supervisor showed us to do it," I said in astonishment. "The patients like the coffee better the way I do it," she replied curtly. Nothing I did pleased her after that. All morning her eagle eyes missed nothing and her sharp words stung. She literally trailed me around the kitchen. Later, after breakfast had been served and the dishes had been washed, I set up my share of trays for the next meal. Then I busied myself cleaning the sink. Certainly Rose couldn't criticize the way I did that. When I turned around, there stood Rose, rearranging all of the trays I had just set up! Later at break time, some of the older full-time workers decided to have some fun and started teasing me. "Are you having a good time working with Rose?" Margaret's mischievous blue eyes twinkled as she baited me with her questions. "That's not even funny," I said, biting my lip to keep back the tears. Totally exhausted, I trudged the six blocks home from the University of Minnesota Hospital late that June afternoon. As a third year university student working my way through school, I had never before encountered anyone like Rose. With muscles still tense, I wrestled with my dilemma alone in my room. "Lord, what do you want me to do? I can't take much more of Rose." I turned the possibilities over in my mind. Should I see if my supervisor would switch me to work with someone else? Scheduling was fairly flexible. On the other hand, I didn't want to be a quitter. I knew my co-workers were watching to see what I would do. The answer to my prayer caught me completely by surprise — I needed to love Rose. Love her? No way! Tolerate, maybe, but loving her was impossible. "Lord, I can't love Rose. You'll have to do it through me." Working with Rose the next morning, I ignored the barbs thrown in my direction and did things her way as much as possible to avoid friction. As I worked, I silently began to surround Rose with a warm blanket of prayers. "Lord, help me love Rose. Lord, bless Rose." Over the next few days an amazing thing began to happen. As I prayed for this irritating woman, my focus shifted from what she was doing to me, and I started seeing Rose as the hurting person she was. I was the one who changed first, not Rose. As the icy tension began to melt away, Rose criticized less and less. Throughout the rest of the summer, we had numerous opportunities to work together. Each time she seemed genuinely happy to see me. "I saw on the schedule they got the two of us working together next week," she would say as we passed in the hospital hallway. "I'm glad about that." As I worked with this lonely woman, I listened to her--something no one else had done. I learned that she was burdened by elderly parents who needed her care, her own health problems, and an alcoholic husband she was thinking of leaving. There was no question that her lot in life was difficult, and I began to understand what made her the way she was. As I listened, I discovered her unique way of doing things was because she wanted to do something special for the patients. She explained how her method of setting up trays helped the eye surgery patients on this hospital station to find things more easily on the tray. Cubing the brightly colored gelatin slabs made them look prettier in the bowls and easier for patients to eat. She had her own reasons for everything she did. In return, she wanted the patients to appreciate her for doing special things for them. This woman—whom I once considered so unlovable— was actually begging for someone to love and appreciate her! I learned so much by observing Rose, far more than anything I learned from a textbook in my years at the university. The days slipped by quickly as I finished the last several weeks of my summer job. Leaves were starting to turn yellow and red, and there was a cool, crispness in the air. I soon would be returning as a full-time student. One day, while I was working alone in one of the hospital kitchens, Rose entered the room. Instead of her blue uniform, she was wearing street clothes. I looked at her in surprise. "Aren't you working today?" "I got me another job and won't be working here no more," she said as she walked over and gave me a quick hug. "I just came to say good-bye." Then she turned abruptly and walked out the door. Although I never saw Rose again, I still remember her vividly. That summer I learned a lesson I've never forgotten, although nearly forty summers have come and gone since then. The world is full of people like Rose—-irritating, demanding, unlovable —yet hurting inside. I've found that love is the best way to turn an enemy into a friend. Janet Seever © 2002 jseever1 @ shaw.ca You are encouraged to write to the authors to let them know what you think of their story, just remember to remove the space before and after the @ symbol. The space is placed in the address to protect our writers from viruses and email harvesting programs. Have a comment on today's story? Send it to: moderator@write2theheart.com ---------------------------------------------------------------- The mother of two adult children, Janet Seever lives in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, with her husband. "A Lesson for a Lifetime" took place in 1966. Janet is a writer for Word Alive magazine, a publication of Wycliffe Canada. Her articles have previously appeared in a variety of magazines and Web sites. More of her writing can be found at www.inscribe.org/janetseever. -------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------------- Military Prayer Reminder --------------------------------------------------------------- As you read over this list of names, please take that moment to pray for these young people and their families: Chris Speir Tim Speir Alan Thaddeaus Howard Todd Holland Graham William Julie Sagel Jessie Marshal Thompson Jason Eric Hernandez Kristin Danielson Ken Prieur Ryan Jonathan P. Wells Please continue to pray for our country, our leaders, and our troops at this time. If you have loved ones in the military, or who are being called to go overseas, send their names (first and last or first only) to be included in our prayer reminder. --------------------------------------------------------------- Cheryl's Corner I am sure glad none of you can see me right now! I had to have a growth shaved off of my lower eyelid Tuesday morning. I thought it would be a piece of cake. The procedure was. The aftermath is a little different. I have been assured that my eye will likely be several shades of blue, black, and red as the weekend nears. I have to serve at our church’s annual Souper Sunday. My dilemma is: do I try to cover it up with makeup, or try to repeat the colors and patterns on the other eye and pretend that it is the look I was going for? God Bless, Cheryl ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright © 2004 Write 2 the Heart Nothing may be reproduced or published without the written permission of the individual author or copyright owner. All rights belong to the authors.