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"I want to be useful to the people I love," pleaded Charlie.
"I know I can do it. It won't be easy, but I'm determined!"
"That's sound reasoning," Jerome replied, snidely.
"You think I should pursue dentistry, instead?" asked Charlie, fighting
to remain calm.
"Money answers all things," retorted Jerome, in the affirmative.
"It doesn't answer love, does it? I want more out of life than just legal tender--
I want happiness!"
"You're going to find happiness as a caregiver?" mocked Jerome. "You've
a lot to learn about life, Charlie."
"I realize that," replied the girl. "But, if I became a dentist at
the expense of Daddy's health and well being, I can guarantee that it wouldn't make
me happy! Besides, surely you're happiest when you're helping others. That's one
reason why I wanted to become a dentist, in the first place! If I really wanted to
help others, I'd be willing to do it whether it paid well, or not!"
"Self-sacrifice doesn't ensure happiness," replied Jerome, firmly.
"You sound like you know from experience," observed Charlie.
"I've been in the health care industry for twenty years, and the only happiness
I've ever fancied myself possessing was derived from work executed in a professional
manner. Happiness is a mirage, Charlie; it's all dry sand."
Oh, Jerome! What happened to the man who was going to make a difference? After the
first few years of youthful zeal, you had no delusion of reforming health care, on
the whole, but, in part, you did think you could change it for the better; to leave
it in better condition than when you found it. Do you remember, Jerome? Alas! you
set out to change the industry, but without the love of God, the industry has changed
you.
Charlie, your dream of helping others has become to mean much more than the "do-gooderism"
of your past. It is now a rooted belief that true Christianity helps his neighbor,
and carries one another's burdens. Yes, this is what it means to "fulfil the
law of Christ"!
Since Vera had to be near her husband, and Chuck was unable to remain home alone,
he found himself in the Recreation Room of Mullen-Overholt. To have something to
do, he brought along his family album, in the hopes of conversing with some of the
others. As the album was passed from person to person, the interested residents talked
about their families. Some of them were falling asleep in their wheelchairs, while
others related experiences of raising their own children.
The oldest resident at Mullen-Overholt was Mrs. Goldie Cook, who at ninety-seven,
could remember her childhood on the plains of Topeka, just forty-four years after
it became the capitol of Kansas. She could still recall the stories her mother had
passed down to her of how runaway slaves bound north on the underground railroad
were hidden there in Topeka by abolitionists.
Goldie had outlived all her friends and relations, and was now waiting for "the
Good Lord to gather me up to the Promised Land." She joked that she had been
waiting since 1975.
Some days, her mind would slip, and she would plead to be taken back to her home
in Yucca Valley, (which had long since been sold). A hug from a kind face, and a
few gentle words usually served to calm her down. Today, Goldie was her normal, intelligent
self.
"I didn't have any girls," Goldie was telling Chuck, "only boys. God
knows Cecil and I tried for a girl, but it just wasn't meant to be.
I was fifteen when the Great War ended in 1918. I married Cecil the year after and
we had Frank the year after that. George came along in '23. The year America entered
World War II, George turned eighteen.
When both of my babies joined the army, I was terrified. Cecil was glowing with pride.
I was so angry with him for encouraging them to join. George was killed in Normandy,
but Frank came back home to us and married a nice girl.
Cecil and I had some hard times, but mostly, it was good. I thought nothing could
be harder than losing George, but I didn't know how wrong I would be. I'm ninety-seven,
and I've buried two sons, a husband, and a daughter-in-law. But, I know I'll see
all of them again in heaven, so that comforts me."
The conversation then turned to their children's first steps, first words, and early
accomplishments.
"Charlie was early at nearly every stage," recalled Chuck. "Her first
word was 'umbrella.' At five, she took it upon herself to start recycling our trash. |
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