Beliefs.....

I was very busy yesterday. After seeing a patient on the north side of Podunk, I had fifteen minutes to make it to the next patient’s home on time, on the south side of Podunk.

Traveling east-west is easier in Podunk; there are more main roads that head east-west. Nevertheless, I know Podunk well and I had chosen the quickest route.

As I drove, I was thinking about everything that I needed to do yesterday and I was a little stressed. As I approached the library, I saw a motorcycle policeman dismount his bike, and park it sideways in the middle of the street I was on. His lights were flashing and he was motioning traffic to stop.

Instinctively, I glanced around, looking for the accident. And there was none. I was the second car in line in my lane and I had a good view of the cop and the street. Then something caught my eye: off to the left, walking slowly down the middle of the street, was a group of men. There must have been a dozen of them, all wearing red tee shirts. And they were carrying a huge, wooden cross. Each of them carrying a part of the weight on their shoulder.

On either side of them were priests, and ministers and other clergymen, all dressed in their religious finery. And behind them? Hundreds of common folks, walking slowly, looking at that wooden cross. There were older people, and teenagers, and families—all holding hands and walking solemnly behind that rugged old cross.

I couldn’t stop looking at them and I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. They were walking the walk, and professing their beliefs. And they are my beliefs, too. And I was moved by the sight.

And then I realized that I was meant to be there and meant to see that procession of believers. It no longer mattered to me that I was going to be late for my next appointment. I was already where I needed to be.

As the procession cleared the intersection, the motorcycle policeman remounted his motorcycle, drove out of the intersection, and motioned traffic to resume. I looked to the right for as long as I could. I didn’t want to stop looking at the believers.

And I only got two blocks before I had to stop again. The red lights were flashing and the train was coming. It lumbered through the intersection, going the same direction as the procession: east to west. It was a Union Pacific train, a short one, and it caught my eye for a completely different reason.

All the cars, from the engine to the last boxcar, had been graffitied. At first, I was disgusted because of the markings and then I saw it: a beautiful graphic of words and a skull and animals. Regardless of the content of the picture, the execution was incredible. Somewhere, there is a graffiti artist who is quite talented.

Imagine what he could do if somebody believed in him.

Today, as I do what I always have to do on the weekends, I cannot stop thinking about those two events. And it made me think about my education. When I was going through the bowels of Hell, otherwise known as Nursing School, there were several people who believed in me. My parents, my husband, my children, and my friend, Sue.

Sue was a neighbor and our kids played together. She would come down the street to check in on me and see how I was doing. I would sit and complain about school, about work, and about being so tired all the time. She would just listen and let me vent. And, when I seemed to have finished venting, she would talk about my graduation party.

I would think about who I wanted to invite, what I would serve, the decorations, the cake and the coffee. I remember telling her that I would have to leave graduation early so I could start the coffee pot. She always offered to do that for me.

In the end, I had stopped complaining, and thought about my party instead. And then Sue would add: “Of course, you have to graduate first. Then you can have your party.” And I would be good for another week of hell.

So here I am, all these years later, being reminded of the importance of beliefs. It is my beliefs that make me who I am and it is the people who believed in me who got me where I am today. And now my patients believe in me.

And I believe life is good. Happy Easter….