We Are Called

I went to the hospital first thing this morning before I stopped in at the office.  A member had been admitted for observation the evening before, and I told him I would be stopping by.  As I was walking the hall from the parking garage, I passed a younger woman.  She smiled at me and said “Good morning.”  I smiled at her and returned the greeting.  It’s a little unusual for a younger woman to greet an older man she doesn’t know in a mostly deserted hall.  Most of the time, everyone looks straight ahead and goes on.

As I got into the elevator, an older woman got in with me.  As we were going up, we exchanged pleasantries, again, somewhat unusual.  I could tell from what she said that she was a “veteran” of the hospital and knew her way around.  I could only surmise that a friend or relative had some kind of chronic issue that mandated her familiarity with the hospital.  As she exited the car on her floor, she said, “Have a good one.”  Normally, I wouldn’t think much of this phrase, but coming from her and what I presumed was a life that as of now revolved around a hospital and an illness, it was indeed unusual.

There was a third incident.  No words were exchanged.  But it was “interesting”, nevertheless.  As I went down the hall toward the room, I met up with one of those floor cleaners that the operator rides on as it goes down the hall. The cleaner puts down a small amount of water, scrubs the floor, then vacs up the remaining liquid.  The operator was running the cleaner as close to the wall as he could, but there was about a four inch space that he couldn’t get with the machine.

To solve that problem, the operator, who was riding on the machine, had a wet mop in his hand that was closest to the wall, and was dragging the mop over that four inch space behind the machine.  A novel way, to be sure, to clean that small area (if not necessarily the best way).

Normally, I don’t see much when I visit a hospital that evokes comment from me.  But all three of these incidents stuck in my mind as I processed the morning and my visit.  Someone I didn’t know, and who possibly was having a very eventful day wishing me a good morning.  One wishing me a good day when they possibly could be having a very tough day.  And one ingenious guy finding a better way (at least in his mind) to do things.

These people have made my day.  They don’t know that, but they did.  And hopefully, I can make someone’s day today (and every day) just by being friendly, civil, or courteous.  I’ll never know it either, but it’s certainly worth the effort.

Jesus told us to be salt and light.  We normally think of that as some kind of big missionary effort or some big service project.  But for the most part, being salt and light in this world can well be a smile, a greeting, or even the putting into practice of a thought or idea.  It doesn’t have to be world-shattering.  It doesn’t have to cost an arm and a leg. And it doesn’t have to affect 10,000 people.  One person can easily make a difference in the life of another.  And THAT is what we are called to do.