I Wish…
I sat beside her for 35 minutes. Violet was her name. She was in her eighties and was leaving her nursing home in 3 days, and she couldn’t stop talking about how ready she was to drive a car again. We had come, our small group of college students, to sing in a local nursing home. Amazing grace, how sweet the sound… Brian’s fingers picking his guitar, voices lifted up. She sat behind us, listening. Coarse strands of gray hair tangled around her face; her toothless grin welcomed me as I left my group to chat with her. She told me her story, and tears filled my eyes as I felt her hopelessness. And it made me think.
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