A Layne Post

I pushed the door carefully open, making sure not to bump anyone on the other side. I peeked inside and gave a quick glance around. It was obvious who I was looking for, the alone one. “Maria?” I asked quietly. She was peeking out from a big blanket. It almost looked like like she was hiding. I pulled my mask down letting her see my face. The staff at the hospital had indicated that she might be a good candidate for Casa Ahavá. After a few questions I discovered she indeed had nowhere to go and had been living for some time in the hospital.

With a big smile, I explained all about our home and extended the offer for her to come. Basically, a little like, “Wanna get outta here?”

I walked out of that room feeling somewhat like Santa Claus. Usually Jon does the inviting, as he is at the hospital most days. When I got home I teared up telling Jon about my experience. I had forgotten. This job of ours, this thing we get to do, feels a little bit like magic. Because of generous, compassionate people around the world and their money, I get to deliver presents.

Yesterday we said goodbye to a patient who finished her treatment and sent her back to her family. It is not uncommon for the patient to give a bit of a formal speech thanking Jon and I in front of the group. It is awkward, but I’ve learned it is the way of things. This patient went on and one about the love she felt because we paid for her basic needs, electricity, food, water, etc. She explained that when she comes back for a checkup, she might not have water along the way, but she knows when she gets here, she will have a cool cup of water waiting for her. I kept thinking, “This is not because of my money, it is because of a community of people who care.”

To many reading this, that is YOU. This project is made possible by you guys. You are making a difference. I wish you could see it. Thank you.

It is terribly beautiful.