My Mom died two years ago at the age of 95. She lived with us the last nine years of her life, and all of us miss her terribly. So when I heard about the Presents for Patients Program here in Pittsburgh, I thought this would be a wonderful way to bring a little bit of my Mom’s presence back into our Christmas.
The program works by pairing people in the community with those who are in nursing homes. You buy presents for them from a list that they have designated and deliver them during the Christmas season. I called immediately and asked for a female patients at a nursing home in my area.
My assignment arrived in the mail, and I was excited as I opened the instructions. I thought I could buy slippers like I would for my Mom or a nightgown or a book or a bright red amaryllis. My first clue that this was not going to be what I thought was the patient’s name - Megan. What older woman is named Megan? The suggested presents were a sweat shirt, pajamas, or stuffed animals. The instructions specified “no food.”
I called the nursing home to get a little more information, and I discovered that the patient indeed was not like my mother. Megan was a woman in her early 30’s. Although the nurse could not give me any details because of privacy laws, I did surmise that Megan had sustained a very serious head injury from an accident, was non-communicative, had a feeding tube, and would be living in a home for the rest of her life.
I was a little disappointed. I couldn’t go to the nursing home pretending I was giving a gift to my Mom, but I was committed to going ahead with what I had promised. I talked further to the nurse and learned that Megan loves dogs. She suggested that I might want to bring her a poster of dogs. I then got an idea!
I have the most adorable dog, a little all white Maltese with big black eyes and a bouncy disposition. Munchkin is his name and he weighs only three pounds. He is not a teacup dog; he just never grew. He brings smiles to the faces of everyone who sees him. So I asked if I could take Munchkin with me when I visited Megan. The nurse said she thought that Megan would like that.
So two days before Christmas, we visited Megan. As soon as we entered the nursing home, everyone started making a fuss over Munchie like they always do. We made our way to Megan’s room and there she was- lying there, not moving, staring in the direction of a window. We crossed the room and she didn’t make eye contact, even as we started to talk to her. I sat down on the side of the bed and lifted Munchie up on the bed to show her.
Although Megan didn’t really seem like anything registered with her, as soon as Munchie was on her bed, she started to glow. I looked down and somehow, in her curled fist, she had his leash and she was holding on. Munchie started to lick her fist and I told her that he was giving her kisses. That glow on her misshapen face spread over her and washed over me. I felt such overwhelming happiness. And I understood.
This wasn’t my plan. My idea for this exercise was a somewhat selfish one, I admit it. I was doing this to make me feel good. But God had his own plan that was much different than mine. And when I saw that glow on Megan’s face, I understood God’s plan and appreciated his wisdom.