I've been in and out of the local hospital like a yo-yo last March. Not for myself; in support of someone else; we don't need to go into that here.
Actually, now I come to think about it I do have a funny story. A couple of weeks' ago I spent a full week there day and night. I was in dire need of some clean / fresh clothes (and a shower if the truth be told), so I ran out to the nearest Wal-Mart and purchased a bunch of cheap T-Shirts and socks and stuff.
The next morning, while grabbing a bite to eat in the cafeteria, everyone in line in front of me was a Doctor or Nurse or something, so when it came to pay they just waved their ID in front of the scanner. When it was my turn the cashier glanced at my garb and asked "Do you work here?" I immediately responded with a wry smile "No, I just live here!" (Grin)
But that's not what I wanted to tell you about. At the crack of dawn last April 2 I was back there again. I parked my car in the parking lot and walked over to the elevator that would take me into the hospital. As I approached the elevator I saw the machine you have to use to get a token when you leave the parking lot.
You have to have a token to get out. A token costs $2. I didn't have any cash with me. It wasn't a big deal. I'm sure that there would have been an ATM somewhere in the hospital. It was just that I was getting close to "the final straw" and I must admit that my father – who never once swore in front of me – may have been a tad disappointed in me on this occasion.
Anyway, I entered the elevator and pushed the button for the reception level. When the doors opened and I walked out, an older gentleman was standing by the wall. As I exited the elevator he asked "Do you need a token for the parking lot?"
When I replied (in a rather puzzled tone) "Why, yes I do." He handed me a token and a small card and a small pack of cookies and said "Have a blessed day."
As you can imagine, I was somewhat surprised by this, but I wished the same to him and went on my way. As I walked a read the card, which was from the First Baptist Church in Huntsville. The legend on the card read as follows:
Now I'm not a big church goer (by which I mean that I only go when my wife [who has taken over from my mother] grabs me by the ear and drags me down there), but I must admit that as I walked through the hospital my eyes were more than a little moist and I was filled with warm feelings and fuzzy thoughts.
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