Some years back, we had a male resident at my present job. He was visually impaired, stood about 5 ‘1, thin, and buzzed light brown hair. His room had nothing on the walls, dresser, or bed. He hung around one lady at the home. Once a week a man my age now, would take him out to eat. When doing my med 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. One because he was as still as someone with a Bee on the end of their nose and secondly because I’m nosy.

He started to pray

“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 Until 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. 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.