Larry Jordan

Every Tuesday, Jill and I volunteer at Cook Children’s Medical Center, playing with sick kids and their siblings in the Neurology and Orthopedics waiting room.  This week, my Lovely Wife had a conflict, so I went alone.

Usually, Jill spends the morning buying supplies, dreaming up things to do, and planning the afternoon. This time, the only thing that I brought with me was a smile. Thankfully, on this day, that was enough.

No breakthroughs in therapy occurred, no miraculous cures took place, no young lives were changed.

Still, I helped a little girl with a broken arm, and I sat silently with a shy, sixth-grader, and I shared a few hours with an angelic neurology patient and his kindly grandfather. There are worse ways to spend a day.

Hopefully, you have tried to be a friend, and you know what I am talking about.  ften, you bring nothing but a smile, and you spend a lot more time listening than speaking.

At first, you may wonder if you are the best person for the job, if you have more important things to do, if you are compassionate enough or wise enough to make a difference.

Then, you realize that you are the only person for the job, that you are doing the most important thing, and that the desire to be compassionate and wise is itself compassionate and wise, and that is enough.