~it was the power of the "human touch"~

I met her for the first time late last August, shortly after school had been dismissed for the day.  It was a meeting that couldn't have come at a better time and as a matter of fact, I believe now that it came at just the "perfect" time.  In the most unlikely of circumstances and the weirdest of places, I met a 4-year old girl who, and there is no better or truer way to put this, "saved me".  Her name is Aniya and we are shown together in the picture below.

The day that I met Aniya for the first time, now well over a year ago, had been a pretty rough one  for me.  My arm was still in the very first cast after my August 4th, 2011 accident and things didn't look all that "pretty".  "Old lefty's" fingers were broken, swollen, black and blue, pretty dang crooked and in other words, they didn't quite look the way God had intended them to !  The nurses that took care of me always had referred to them as "little fat sausages" and to be honest, that was probably a "nice" way to describe them.  To me they looked even worse.  "Old lefty" was so messed up that I wasn't even sure there would be a chance to use it again and in my vanity, I thought my left arm and hand were about as ugly as could be.  The last thing I wanted anyone to do was to notice how bad I looked. 

It had been such a long and tiring day and by 3:45, THIS teacher was ready, more than ready to call it a day. My "long arm" cast felt like it weighed 20 pounds and I can remember telling one of my teaching colleagues that it was like being "pregnant, only sideways!"  It was time to go home for the day.  So I began to haul my stuff out to my pick up a little at a time with my one "good" arm until at long last, I had everything out that I needed.  And that's when I heard the voices.  

"Teacher, wait for me!" a little voice cried.  I looked up to see Aniya's brother running towards me where I stood on the side walk, wanting to tell me good-bye.  It wasn't long until I saw her coming quickly behind him.  In a matter of seconds, BEFORE I could say "Please be careful around my arm, ok?" little Aniya had reached up with her hands and began to massage "Old Lefty's" battered fingers.  When the soft skin of her little tiny hands moved over mine, I immediately felt the peaceful relief.  And it wasn't because I had just taken a Percocet or two.  It was because of something special, something so powerful that you can't find it on the shelf of the local pharmacy or written on a physician's prescription pad.  That little Aniya, only 4-years old, understood the value, the power, of the "human touch".  She knew what I needed and she knew just what to do.

I can still see her little face that day, the expression on it, one of deep caring  in her eyes.  Even though she was only 4 at the time, Aniya knew how badly I was hurting.  And actually friends, the strange thing was this.  I believe that little girl realized without my even saying it, that not only did my arm and hand ache, but my spirit, my heart, felt even worse.  So she did what she could do in the most innocent of offerings and by the time she and her big brother sped off towards home, I was already feeling a little more "human", a little more like I would make it!  

Do you believe in the power of the "human touch"?  If so, how might you have shown it this day?  A hug for a friend or family member who was hurting?  A hearty handshake to congratulate someone on a job "well done"?  Maybe you just smiled at a total stranger you met on the street or inside the store on your way home.  You never know, for THAT stranger, you may have given them the ONLY taste of the "human touch" they will see today. 

Earlier this week, while I was in the gym during breakfast time for the students at our school, little Aniya came rushing towards me, arms stretched wide as she waited for me to give her a hug.  It was then that she said that they were moving away to a new place and she wouldn't be at our  school much longer.  I think she must have sensed my sadness because she reached up around my neck and gave me a "gift" that I don't recall ever getting at school, even after 35 years of teaching.  She gave me the sweetest little kiss you can imagine on my face and then giggled as she ran off to find her classmates.  Today when I had a chance to visit with her one last time, we said our "good byes" and she asked me if I remembered her giving me a kiss earlier this week and I told her with a smile on my face that "yes" I sure did.  Her little heart was filled with gladness and as she scurried on back to class, I watched her go~and I have to tell you, it was a little sad.

It's been since May that I paid a visit to the "land of miracles"~the Kansas Orthopaedic Center in Wichita.  The good Dr. Chan took a look at "old lefty" because of some issues that had started to arise since he dismissed me from his care in March.  We've been watching those little "quirks" that have happened, trying to stay away from a fourth surgery that might have to be done in the future.  Things haven't gotten a whole lot better so I will return to see him one more time within the next couple of weeks.  With luck, no surgery will be needed but if it IS required, I know where I will be headed.  Another surgery necessitates another 8 weeks in a long-arm cast so if there's any way to avoid it, you can bet that Dr. Chan will find that way.

Modern medicine put my "Humpty Dumpty" arm back together again.  Skilled nurses knew just how much of my new "best friend" morphine to give me  so that the pain could be tolerable.  X-ray technicians took the pictures that showed the very serious problems I was dealing with and  two of the best orthopaedic surgeons I know of reassembled all of the broken pieces.  One man's death and subsequent donation of his bone material helped to give me a semi-usable wrist once more and the persistence of an occupational therapist named Kim, helped to make my arm as close to the way it once was as he possibly could.    

But even as great and powerful as those things all were, in the very least of things, I give thanks to a little girl named Aniya who was wise enough, even at her young age, to practice the power of the human touch.  I will never forget her for that.  

Have a good evening friends and family and I surely hope that someone sends you that gift as well.  

I was a little hesitant to use this photo of our hands because "old lefty" kind of looks about 76 instead of 56.  The accident took its "toll" on my arm and hand.  But after I looked at it for a while I began to realize that if a little girl could be "ok" with the way it looks, then I should work a little harder on accepting it myself.  And as I've said, many times before....anyone who reads this didn't choose me to be their friend because I had the most beautiful left arm and hand in the world.  You chose me to be your friend because of who I am on the inside.  I can say the same as well for you all, my dearest of friends.  What is inside of you, what is in your heart, is what matters the very most to me.  So thanks!