Children's hospital is an iron pillar in the middle of the city. It is often how I orient myself, with its blue roof, and the word "Children's" that glows through the night.
Yellow light spills out of some rooms, even at times (2am) when the rest of the world is slumbering away. Last night (8pm), I was briskly walking back from the library, when a helicopter landed on the roof. It is for these children, parents, nurses, and doctors that I pray especially hard for. Undoubtedly racing that helicopter, there was a parent, fearful, uncertain, feeling removed and so separate from the world...the things that he or she cared about mere hours before.
I walked a little slower. I breathed the air.
I remember not to get caught up in the "first anatomy exam Monday" hype.
It constantly forces me to check "where I'm at."
So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I like to orient myself, especially in the proverbial night, by Children's Hospital.
No comments:
Post a Comment