I had a male resident at my current job. He was visually impaired, stood about five three or four. He had thin, buzzed, light brown hair. His room had nothing on the walls or dressers. He had a lady friend who lived in the home as well. Once a week a man my age now, would take him out to eat.
When doing my medicine pass one night I walked by his door. I saw him sitting on the edge of his bed. I backed up a few steps and stood there looking in. To make sure he was, alright.
He started to praying
“Thank you for the trees and leaves, thank you for the birds that sing, thank you for the rain and the sunshine, the cold days and the hot days, thank you for the good days and the bad days”
Every night, til the day he left, I joined him in prayer at his door. This may have not been the right thing to do but because what I felt inside his prayer it felt right, to me.
This past few weeks have been rough.
Ten years and this prayer has come back to me and many other times as well. I can’t help but think all those years he spent praying, was for me…
To bring me back to what counts in life. I’m so thankful for that time I was on the outside looking in.