This story is given to us by Rev. Quentin Jones. He is Chaplain at LakeviewVillage in Lenexa, Kansas.
Carrie was one on the favorites we’re “not supposed to have” but who had wheedled herself into the hearts of all who cared for her. A ninety something, she was coming quickly to the end-of-life, and was sleeping a better part of each day. As the Chaplain, I was being updated regularly of any changes in her condition. Stealing a few minutes, I went to her room. She was asleep, or so it seemed. As quietly as I could I moved a chair near to the head of her bed, within reach of her hand which lay near the edge of the bed. She lay on her right side facing me. As I sat, she must have heard me, even as I sought to be quiet so as not to disturb. Coming awake but not moving, she spied me with one eye. I knew she knew me. “What in the hell are you doing here?” Carrie was of the school that thought the only time the chaplain came was when some one was dying. She knew she was. “I came just to spend some time with you…” That seemed to answer her for she closed her eyes. A moment or two later…or was it minutes…she opened her eyes again, “What do I do now?” “I don’t think there is anything to do…”, I replied. Again a time of silent sharing between us passed. “You’re OK,” I said. Then coming more awake after a moment of considering what I had said, “Would you please go tell them that!” Not sure of what she meant I asked. She said, “They’re all coming in and telling me I am going to be OK, I need to know that I am OK now!”
Carrie had never faced, felt, or talked about the coming of her death. She didn’t know what to do. More than anything, she yearned to know that she was OK in what she was experiencing. Carrie died some hours later in a wonderfully dignified, and much more calm manner, knowing she was OK. Our Lay Chaplains, and I learned a huge lesson from her.
This story is told by Warren Miedke, who is the Diocese of Texas representative to the Community of Hope International Board of Directors. Warren lives in Houston, where this story took place in 2005.
“It was immediately after Hurricane Katrina and our Assistant Rector and I felt we needed to go to the Astrodome and do what ever we could. As we walked in, no one stopped us or asked us for ID or our mission. Our immediate reaction to the thousands of cots and sea of humanity on the floor of the Astrodome was shock. It really hit us as to the magnitude of these people who were evacuated from New Orleans. We decided to split and just go down to the floor and talk to people, listen to their story and pray with them if they wished. As I was wandering on the floor I looked up into the stands and there sat a young man in his thirties, all by himself. There was an urge put upon me to go and minister to that person. I climbed the steps and got to him and introduced my self , my church and what could I do for him. We chatted a bit and he said he needed some clothes as all he had were the clothes on his back which he had been in for a couple of days. I asked what he needed, he said a pair of pants, size 34, a t- shirt and some socks.
There were clothing distribution areas on the Astrodome floor with long lines. The young man explained that he had MS and could not stand on his feet for the time it would take in the clothing line. I left him in the stands and went to the clothes point. A lady working security looked at me and asked what I was looking for, she opened the barricade and let me in. I found the pants, a new, white T Shirt, and white socks. I took them back up to the guy, and he thanked me, cried. I cried too and we prayed together. Then I left him and as I got back down on the floor, I looked up,,,,,,there was no one there. He was not in sight.
I kept repeating Matthew 25: 40 "I assure you, when you did it to one of the least of these by brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!"