Holiday Greetings from Honduras
Once a week we try to go as a family to visit the sick at the local hospital. We had started this custom three years ago while still in Syracuse. Karen was teaching English to refugees from Vietnam. Through Midas Randall, a Vietnamese Christian who was attending our church, she learned that a Vietnamese woman had been severely injured in a car accident. A sister of one of Karen’s students was the driver of the car. When we first saw the injured lady at Rosewood Heights half of her skull was missing. The vehicle had apparently hit a tree in heavy fog with the impact damaging the left side of her skull. The doctors had removed it make room for her swollen brain. At that time they didn’t expect her to make it. She couldn’t speak, the right side of her body was totally paralyzed and she would just sit and cry every time we walked in. None of the Vietnamese community would visit her. As Buddhists, they felt it was her bad karma that had led to her accident and only reincarnation would free her to try again in the next life. Her husband came faithfully every day to bring her a Vietnamese style dinner. Prior to the accident she was reported to have been one of the brightest of all the immigrants. With a sunny disposition, all loved her.
I’ve never seen my wife spontaneously express a love for any stranger as she did toward Hang. My wife is like a bulldog when she sets her mind to something. She made sure we were faithful with our visits. Slowly but surely, each Sunday we began to see faint signs of improvement. With time she would light up like a Christmas tree when we entered the room. She would laugh with us as we tried to teach her to count to ten. She would smile as the girls sang or showed her photos from magazines. Twice during the years she was rushed to the hospital for emergency care. The first time she nearly died when her shunt became infected. After one of these set backs she would cry and cry when she saw us. I believe she had recovered enough of her mental capacity to understand her condition—which was hopeless. All we could do was pray with her and hold hands. We continued to love her. Slowly she began to move her right foot, then her right leg. Soon she was able to lift her right leg up off the bed a little. Somewhere along the way the doctors replaced the missing half of her skull. Her hair grew back in. She actually began to look normal. I believe it was simple love that kept her alive and allowed her to recover as much as she did. We would read the Bible to her and pray with her during each visit. At those moments she would become quite sober, and listen intently as we read the word of God. She loved that part of the visit, as did we.
It wasn’t long before we were visiting other patients. The Lord did marvelous things. We were constantly struck by the number of people who had no other visitors but us. Oh how they loved to see our girls! One night I was up there alone. I was leaving when a man in a wheelchair came down the hall in the opposite direction. He had a black pirate’s patch over his right eye. He was drooling so profusely his shirt was soaked. When he spoke, nothing but unintelligible sounds came out. He was asking me to do something but I couldn’t understand him. With a loud sigh, he reached for a small whiteboard and black magic marker on his lap. With his left hand he wrote, “Hi, my name is Ronald!” He gestured down the hall. He was asking me to help wheel him back to his room. Once in his room he began to write again. Ronald had grown up in Auburn. Ten years earlier he had suffered two massive stokes leaving him unable to speak and blind in his right eye. However the rest of his mental faculties were fine. Soon I began to realize he suffered more than anyone there. Half the patients at Rosewood die in a given year. Many suffer from Alzheimer’s or dementia. There was nothing physically wrong with Ronald besides his vision and his speech. His body was strong, his mind as sharp as a tack. Thankfully soon the administrators realized this and he was able to move into an apartment back in Auburn. The first night we met, I read to him from the Gospel of John, Chapter 3. I wasn’t two minutes into it when he began to sob like a baby. I thought, “Oh no, what have I done?” As I continued reading, he began to write something on his whiteboard. He tapped me on the shoulder gesturing to his whiteboard. On it he had written, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son for Ronald!” It had been so long since he heard the Bible read that it made him cry tears of joy.
The first time I laid eyes on Shirley I shrunk back in horror. Her room was darkened. Her body was contorted at impossible angles. Mistakenly I thought she was asleep. All alone, I approached her bed cautiously to get a better look. Her head was turned away from me on the pillow. With a jolt she turned her head to glare at me with terror in her eyes. Fighting the urge to run out of the room screaming, I smiled softly and said, “Would you like a visitor?” She nodded yes. I began to tell her who I was and that I came every week to visit the patients on the fifth floor. I asked if I could read a portion of the scriptures to her and again she nodded yes. When I finished she whispered something so softly I couldn’t hear her. I leaned down and put my ear next to her mouth. She said, “That was beautiful.” During later visits I was able to look at her wedding picture on her dresser. As a young newlywed, she was a knockout. It is amazing how pain affects the body. She suffered quietly. Never once did I hear her complain. I grew to really look forward to praying with her. Afterwards we would just sit and hold hands in the darkness, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Yesterday we went to the local hospital here in Puerto Lempira. The place resembles a burnt out building in the ghettos. It looks more like a war zone than a hospital. Even before we entered we prayed with a young lady who was suffering from a severe kidney infection, unable to stand. Near the entrance to the main building almost always there’s a mom sitting with a baby in her arms who is hooked up to an oxygen tank. Next comes the triage room. Yesterday there was a Cobra policeman sitting on a bed with blood all around his bottom. He had been shot. He prayed to receive the Lord as savior. Next we prayed with a lady with a malignant tumor in her liver. Next we prayed for salvation with a man who was so yellow he looked surreal. Next to him we prayed with a young man with bloodstains around his left leg. He received the Lord as his savior. In the same room was a young man who had his skull cracked open in a fight. He prayed for salvation. Next we prayed for salvation with a very young Mom who sat forlornly next to her sick infant child. Finally we prayed with a male nurse who had been watching us make our rounds. He too prayed for salvation.
Karen and I feel strongly about bringing our daughters along with us. When we first took them up to Rosewood the odors and the blood blew them away. It took a short while for them to be able to see the people as human beings with needs just like theirs. None of those patients chose to end up there. Most will never leave. Why do we go?
“Then the King will say to those on His right hand, ‘Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry, and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.” (Matthew 25:34-36) Will you consider visiting someone special this Christmas?
Sincerely,
Ed Eagan
I’ve never seen my wife spontaneously express a love for any stranger as she did toward Hang. My wife is like a bulldog when she sets her mind to something. She made sure we were faithful with our visits. Slowly but surely, each Sunday we began to see faint signs of improvement. With time she would light up like a Christmas tree when we entered the room. She would laugh with us as we tried to teach her to count to ten. She would smile as the girls sang or showed her photos from magazines. Twice during the years she was rushed to the hospital for emergency care. The first time she nearly died when her shunt became infected. After one of these set backs she would cry and cry when she saw us. I believe she had recovered enough of her mental capacity to understand her condition—which was hopeless. All we could do was pray with her and hold hands. We continued to love her. Slowly she began to move her right foot, then her right leg. Soon she was able to lift her right leg up off the bed a little. Somewhere along the way the doctors replaced the missing half of her skull. Her hair grew back in. She actually began to look normal. I believe it was simple love that kept her alive and allowed her to recover as much as she did. We would read the Bible to her and pray with her during each visit. At those moments she would become quite sober, and listen intently as we read the word of God. She loved that part of the visit, as did we.
It wasn’t long before we were visiting other patients. The Lord did marvelous things. We were constantly struck by the number of people who had no other visitors but us. Oh how they loved to see our girls! One night I was up there alone. I was leaving when a man in a wheelchair came down the hall in the opposite direction. He had a black pirate’s patch over his right eye. He was drooling so profusely his shirt was soaked. When he spoke, nothing but unintelligible sounds came out. He was asking me to do something but I couldn’t understand him. With a loud sigh, he reached for a small whiteboard and black magic marker on his lap. With his left hand he wrote, “Hi, my name is Ronald!” He gestured down the hall. He was asking me to help wheel him back to his room. Once in his room he began to write again. Ronald had grown up in Auburn. Ten years earlier he had suffered two massive stokes leaving him unable to speak and blind in his right eye. However the rest of his mental faculties were fine. Soon I began to realize he suffered more than anyone there. Half the patients at Rosewood die in a given year. Many suffer from Alzheimer’s or dementia. There was nothing physically wrong with Ronald besides his vision and his speech. His body was strong, his mind as sharp as a tack. Thankfully soon the administrators realized this and he was able to move into an apartment back in Auburn. The first night we met, I read to him from the Gospel of John, Chapter 3. I wasn’t two minutes into it when he began to sob like a baby. I thought, “Oh no, what have I done?” As I continued reading, he began to write something on his whiteboard. He tapped me on the shoulder gesturing to his whiteboard. On it he had written, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son for Ronald!” It had been so long since he heard the Bible read that it made him cry tears of joy.
The first time I laid eyes on Shirley I shrunk back in horror. Her room was darkened. Her body was contorted at impossible angles. Mistakenly I thought she was asleep. All alone, I approached her bed cautiously to get a better look. Her head was turned away from me on the pillow. With a jolt she turned her head to glare at me with terror in her eyes. Fighting the urge to run out of the room screaming, I smiled softly and said, “Would you like a visitor?” She nodded yes. I began to tell her who I was and that I came every week to visit the patients on the fifth floor. I asked if I could read a portion of the scriptures to her and again she nodded yes. When I finished she whispered something so softly I couldn’t hear her. I leaned down and put my ear next to her mouth. She said, “That was beautiful.” During later visits I was able to look at her wedding picture on her dresser. As a young newlywed, she was a knockout. It is amazing how pain affects the body. She suffered quietly. Never once did I hear her complain. I grew to really look forward to praying with her. Afterwards we would just sit and hold hands in the darkness, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Yesterday we went to the local hospital here in Puerto Lempira. The place resembles a burnt out building in the ghettos. It looks more like a war zone than a hospital. Even before we entered we prayed with a young lady who was suffering from a severe kidney infection, unable to stand. Near the entrance to the main building almost always there’s a mom sitting with a baby in her arms who is hooked up to an oxygen tank. Next comes the triage room. Yesterday there was a Cobra policeman sitting on a bed with blood all around his bottom. He had been shot. He prayed to receive the Lord as savior. Next we prayed with a lady with a malignant tumor in her liver. Next we prayed for salvation with a man who was so yellow he looked surreal. Next to him we prayed with a young man with bloodstains around his left leg. He received the Lord as his savior. In the same room was a young man who had his skull cracked open in a fight. He prayed for salvation. Next we prayed for salvation with a very young Mom who sat forlornly next to her sick infant child. Finally we prayed with a male nurse who had been watching us make our rounds. He too prayed for salvation.
Karen and I feel strongly about bringing our daughters along with us. When we first took them up to Rosewood the odors and the blood blew them away. It took a short while for them to be able to see the people as human beings with needs just like theirs. None of those patients chose to end up there. Most will never leave. Why do we go?
“Then the King will say to those on His right hand, ‘Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry, and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.” (Matthew 25:34-36) Will you consider visiting someone special this Christmas?
Sincerely,
Ed Eagan
posted by Eric Stephens at 19:06
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