To work on Sundays or not to work....

I work at a nursing and rehabilitation center 5-7 times a month. Oddly enough, I enjoy working Sundays. Of course I miss church, and wish I didn't have to work on Sundays, but let me clarify. On Sundays, there are many visitors, both family and strangers. And it warms my heart to see people spreading and sharing love. To see the anxious patient calm and smile when a daughter comes in, the grumpy and irritable's eyes make a contact, the depressed spirit's lift, the isolated come out of their rooms, the hurting forget for a moment they're in pain, those just longing to talk get to be heard, people wanting to be noticed feel special. I get to see all of this most often on Sundays. There are a few incidents that have brought emotions to my eyes: One of the residents made a blanket for another. To reach out to another when you are feeling sick yourself is noble. A couple of ladies brought left over coursages and boutiniers from a floral shop after homecoming weekend. A spouse invests energy to their care. A neighbor came in just to help a frusterated resident do up her hair for Sunday. And nearly every Sunday, there are young adults that come sing hymns. Not to mention the crayola pictures all over walls from grandchildren. To see these patients as more than a person in a frail body is miraculous to me. I'm learning a leason: a pancake is never so thin it only has one side. The children will grow old, and the old were children. The happy are sad. The sad are happy. The sick are healthy, and the healthy sick. And family is there through it all.