After I wrote my post yesterday on deployment blessings, I read a book of beautifully written accounts of the experiences of a midwife by the name of Jennifer in the 1950s East London slums. This book has frankly filled me with horror at the poverty that existed and exists in the world. Truly, reading about the difficult lives that people endure in poverty has reminded me that I have absolutely nothing to complain about. One story touched me particularly. As Jennifer was about the duty of delivering babies and checking on patients, she frequently met an old woman who always appeared outside the homes of women who were giving birth right at that moment. Jennifer describes her as being haggard in appearance, revolting, possibly senile, and a nuisance. The old woman would grab the midwives' sleeves and ask earnestly if the baby was safe and healthy, and would not drop it until she received an answer. Jennifer bore her presence and answered her questions only to be relieved of them and send her on her way.
One day, Jennifer was asked by a doctor to visit an old woman that had come to his attention, check her heart and see if she could improve her living conditions. As she made the housecall and met the patient, she found that it was Mrs. Jenkins, the old woman. She lived in literal darkness, had no bed, only dirty rags for clothes, and the only light that made its way in was from a hole in the roof. She had no food. I loved seeing Jennifer's judgment slowly but surely turn to love and compassion as she and the nuns she worked with arranged for her to have nice, clean clothes, a new chair and bed, patched the roof, and give her a bath. The poor woman's shoes were stuck to her feet, and it was a painful process to remove them. Jennifer learned of the woman's history and why she worried so much about the babies. In addition to being physically cared for, she was able to confide her dark past in bits and pieces to people who loved her and who she knew wouldn't harm her.
I love true stories because they are often shining lights of humanity in the midst of so much darkness in the world, proof that there is good in the world. True stories are often heartbreaking stories, but I'm grateful whenever someone's moments of deepest testing have found their way to the page to offer more good to others who read it, and hence giving their experiences even more purpose. It made me so happy to see someone reach out to Mrs. Jenkins and show her some good after all the tragedy that was her life.
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