A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same
hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in
his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain
the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to
the room's only window. The other man had to
spend all his time flat on his back. The men
talked for hours on end.
They spoke of their wives and families, their
homes, their jobs, their involvement in the
military service, where they had been on
vacation. And every afternoon when the man in
the bed by the window could sit up, he would
pass the time by describing to his roommate all
the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those
one-hour periods where his world would be
broadened and enlivened by all the activity and
color of the world outside. The window
overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and
swans played on the water while children sailed
their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in
arm amidst flowers of every color of the
rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape,
and a fine view of the city skyline could be
seen in the distance.
As the man by the window described all this in
exquisite detail, the man on the other side of
the room would close his eyes and imagine the
picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window
described a parade passing by. Although the
other man couldn't hear the band, he could see
it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the
window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day
nurse arrived to bring water for their baths
only to find the lifeless body of the man by the
window, who had died peacefully in his sleep.
She was saddened and called the hospital
attendants to take the body away. As soon as it
seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he
could be moved next to the window. The nurse was
happy to make the switch, and after making sure
he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one
elbow to take his first look at the world
outside. Finally, he would have the joy of
seeing it for himself. He strained to slowly
turn to look out the window beside the bed. It
faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what
could have compelled his deceased roommate who
had described such wonderful things outside this
window. The nurse responded that the man was
blind and could not even see the wall.
She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to
encourage you."
Epilogue...There is tremendous happiness in
making others happy, despite our own situations.
Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness
when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel
rich, just count all of the things you have that
money can't buy. "Today is a gift, that's
why it is called the present."
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