In a Special Afternoon

Away in one corner, she sat there quietly, unnoticed.
She's 98. In a wheelchair.
Alone with a maid as a caregiver in her humble abode.
She's not my patient.

In a special afternoon, I saw her.
My "Missy" habit just kicked in automatically, floating through my cerebrum:
"Is she depressed?" "Does she have dementia?" "Does she have any sores?"
"Wonder what chronic illnesses she has?"

In that special afternoon, I saw us.
When she started talking, there's a gentle glow around her.
My questions above were answered within a few minutes talking to her.
She's definitely not depressed, not demented, no sores and have no any chronic diseases.

She sing Praises without dentures but with much more gusto than anybody I've seen.
Her eyes glowed with a child-like glimmer when she talked about God.
About nearing home. About how all children, even her own, are children of God.
I sat and listening to her over a cup of water.
Which at the end of conversation, I ended up more thirsty than before.

Thirsty to know what's causing that glow and serenity.
Though a Christian, I'm still very very thirsty to know how much faith is needed to get this peace I'm seeing in front of me that afternoon.
How much courage is needed?
How much letting go is needed?
How much thankful I need to be?
How did she cope when the world turns against her?
How much strength is needed?
How much reliance on Him is needed?

A filled her, and a thirsty me. I'm the patient that afternoon.
I faded into the background....
Lizzy, you have much more things to know and learn. Gambatte!!