This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 40; the fortieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "MAKE A WISH"
Finding Meaning In Misery
Her doctor friends and fellow patients referred her as 'sunshine'. Samantha's sweet little sunny smile had earned her that sobriquet. Hello Samantha, you look great; Samantha you look as bright as a sunflower today; Samantha keep smiling, were some of the common comments you could often hear reverberating the hospital corridors.
Though shockingly pale and frail, this six-year-old's bubbly, chirpy spirit was contagious, filling every nook and crevice of the hospital premises. All these months I have never seen her frown, much less wriggle in pain. Hopping and jumping her way through the patient wards, I knew she was not a normal kid, for her days were numbered; but this sweet little girl gave no signs of suffering. Her incredible energy and unceasing zest for life was like an energy booster for me. She would hold heartfelt chat sessions with me for hours on end, play with me, run her tiny little hands on my bald head and filled me with stories that filled my senseless world with joy. The glint in her eyes and loving gestures made me cry and I could often sense a change in my soul. But this catharsis wasn't easy. I had to fight my inner demons of frustration and meaninglessness and more often than not, even fought with God for having forsaken me
 | |
|
"But, here is a small girl for whom life holds so much meaning, and here I am feeling sorry for myself at this ripe age of seventy. If at this tender age of six, she is challenging cancer like a crusader, how could I lose meaning in my life so easily?” I ruminated. My heart went out for this cute little baby, battling out one of the world’s deadliest diseases. The angelic charm on her face and her friendly ways often made me wonder how God could be so cruel to her. So, instead of wishing away my sickness, I decided to 'make a wish' for her and entered into an open pact with God.
“O God! Give me all the pain you can, and make it as gruesome as you wish, but in exchange, cure this child and bless her with a new lease of life,” I pleaded God from every moral fiber of my being.
The pact with heaven in a strange way gave me new meaning in my misery: to re-live life for this stranger kid by responding to her friendly gestures; to put up a brave front despite the unspeakable pain I went through. The world may not need me, but this child badly needs me, I pondered. So, instead of concentrating on my helplessness, I focused all my energies on adding to her happiness. I played with her, patiently heard to her childish babbles, shared jokes with her, et al. Yes, from that day, I turned my personal tragedy into triumph.
As days and months passed by, my pain become more and more unbearable, while miraculously Samantha was getting better and better. I knew, God has intervened and granted my dream wish. So, I prayed for more misery and suffering; inspired by Victor Frankl’s book, “Man Search for Meaning,” I simply forget myself, to actualize myself.
Today morning, she ran towards me and hugged me like never before. But this time, I failed to reciprocate her feelings. My heart was willing, but my body was weak. Lying there on the hospital bed, I simply smiled back at God and waved her my final good bye.
As I drifted off to sleep and evening dawned, I could sense a commotion in the room. Parents and relatives of Samanta were present. I knew something dreadful had happened. When I reached her bed, I could see Samantha lying peacefully; her eyes tightly shut. Her mother caught hold of my hands and stared coldly into my eyes. I had no words of consolation for her or for myself. I simply stared blankly at the ceiling for I simply couldn't face her.
My wish…didn't hold value in the eyes of God!
Next day, yet another girl had taken over the bed. She was quite opposite to my old friend. Quite and reserved. I decided to break the ice this time, and even sent out a wish to God for her. It's said, God preserves your tears and may be he's preserving my prayers as well and someday he'll surely hear me.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 01
Tidak ada komentar:
Posting Komentar