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And To All a Good Night
bustedknee
Member Posts: 2,002 ✭✭✭✭
"I have too many stuffed toys." She said, tossing a couple toward the head of the bed. The guest bedroom was being used to store Christmas presents for their grandchildren and consequently the bed became a wrapping table. But the bed was virtually covered with stuffed animals she had won at bingo or purchased as part of her Beanie Baby Collection.
"Maybe we?ll have a big garage sale next summer." She mused.
"Why don?t you get rid of some of them now," he suggested. "We can take them to kids in the hospital?"
"Good idea." She agreed. "I?ll pick out some after I finish my wrapping and we can take them to Anchorage, next week when we visit the kids."
That is how they came to arrive at Providence Hospital with a box of Beanie Babies and other assorted stuffed toy animals.
The Charge Nurse said she could not spare any of her nurses to accompany them to distribute toys but since it was past visiting hours, she suggested they simply go room to room and present each child with a toy. She promised to check on them after she had finished her paperwork.
"But please don't bother the little girl in room 423." She advised, nodding her head to the room nearest the Nurse?s Station. "Little Carrie has been fighting a rare kind of bone cancer and her time is limited. The doctor gave her a strong sedative after her parents left and she is finally resting."
The couple moved quickly and quietly from room to room. If they found a child awake, they allowed the youngster pick a toy out of the box and if the child was asleep, they placed a Beanie Baby on the pillow where the young patient would be sure to discover it upon awakening.
After all the rooms had been visited, one Beanie Baby remained in the box. Peanut, the Blue Elephant.
The nurses? station was deserted. Most likely, they were responding to patients? needs.
?I wanted to leave this toy with the nurse for the little girl in 423. I think I?ll just tiptoe in and leave it for her." He whispered.
"I?ll wait right here." His wife whispered, in reply,
The light was turned down low but he could see the shape of a small figure under the sheets. Carrie lay on her side facing away from the door. When he placed Peanuts gently on her pillow, she rolled to face him. "What are you doing?" she asked in a weak voice.
"Jus? just leaving you a toy." He stammered.
"Oh, its Peanuts." She said. A smile spread across her face. "My favorite. I want a collection of Beanie Babies?someday." She sank back into her pillow. Exhaustion quite evident on her pale face.
"Merry Christmas." He said.
It was an awkward moment and he could think of nothing more appropriate to say.
She held out her hand.
He instinctively reached out and wrapped his fingers around hers.
"What is the matter with me?" He thought. "I never cry, as tears burned dual paths down his cheeks.
She wiggled her fingers in his hand as tiny tears flowed from her pretty blue eyes.
For long minutes he stood, looking into the face of a dying child. Both cried. Neither spoke.
Finally, Carrie said softly, "Thank you."
"Oh you are welcome." He answered. "We brought toys to all the kids in this ward."
"Not just for the toy." She said. "Thank you for crying with me."
"I cry a lot when I have pain and when they stick me with needles. But no one else cries. I know they cry, but they don?t want me to see them cry so they wait until they are out of my room. "
He couldn?t speak around the lump in his throat, so he nodded.
She released his hand and hugged Peanuts. Slowly, she closed her eyes and drifted into a drugged sleep.
He felt like a fool, standing there, blubbering - like baby. Wiping the tears from his face with a sleeve he backed slowly out of the darkened room.
A few days after New Year?s he was having his first cup of coffee and reading the Anchorage Daily News. He folded it then laid it aside. The obituary said Carrie had passed away two days after Christmas.
"Thank you, precious little girl,? he said softly, ?For the honor of crying, not for you, but with you."
"Maybe we?ll have a big garage sale next summer." She mused.
"Why don?t you get rid of some of them now," he suggested. "We can take them to kids in the hospital?"
"Good idea." She agreed. "I?ll pick out some after I finish my wrapping and we can take them to Anchorage, next week when we visit the kids."
That is how they came to arrive at Providence Hospital with a box of Beanie Babies and other assorted stuffed toy animals.
The Charge Nurse said she could not spare any of her nurses to accompany them to distribute toys but since it was past visiting hours, she suggested they simply go room to room and present each child with a toy. She promised to check on them after she had finished her paperwork.
"But please don't bother the little girl in room 423." She advised, nodding her head to the room nearest the Nurse?s Station. "Little Carrie has been fighting a rare kind of bone cancer and her time is limited. The doctor gave her a strong sedative after her parents left and she is finally resting."
The couple moved quickly and quietly from room to room. If they found a child awake, they allowed the youngster pick a toy out of the box and if the child was asleep, they placed a Beanie Baby on the pillow where the young patient would be sure to discover it upon awakening.
After all the rooms had been visited, one Beanie Baby remained in the box. Peanut, the Blue Elephant.
The nurses? station was deserted. Most likely, they were responding to patients? needs.
?I wanted to leave this toy with the nurse for the little girl in 423. I think I?ll just tiptoe in and leave it for her." He whispered.
"I?ll wait right here." His wife whispered, in reply,
The light was turned down low but he could see the shape of a small figure under the sheets. Carrie lay on her side facing away from the door. When he placed Peanuts gently on her pillow, she rolled to face him. "What are you doing?" she asked in a weak voice.
"Jus? just leaving you a toy." He stammered.
"Oh, its Peanuts." She said. A smile spread across her face. "My favorite. I want a collection of Beanie Babies?someday." She sank back into her pillow. Exhaustion quite evident on her pale face.
"Merry Christmas." He said.
It was an awkward moment and he could think of nothing more appropriate to say.
She held out her hand.
He instinctively reached out and wrapped his fingers around hers.
"What is the matter with me?" He thought. "I never cry, as tears burned dual paths down his cheeks.
She wiggled her fingers in his hand as tiny tears flowed from her pretty blue eyes.
For long minutes he stood, looking into the face of a dying child. Both cried. Neither spoke.
Finally, Carrie said softly, "Thank you."
"Oh you are welcome." He answered. "We brought toys to all the kids in this ward."
"Not just for the toy." She said. "Thank you for crying with me."
"I cry a lot when I have pain and when they stick me with needles. But no one else cries. I know they cry, but they don?t want me to see them cry so they wait until they are out of my room. "
He couldn?t speak around the lump in his throat, so he nodded.
She released his hand and hugged Peanuts. Slowly, she closed her eyes and drifted into a drugged sleep.
He felt like a fool, standing there, blubbering - like baby. Wiping the tears from his face with a sleeve he backed slowly out of the darkened room.
A few days after New Year?s he was having his first cup of coffee and reading the Anchorage Daily News. He folded it then laid it aside. The obituary said Carrie had passed away two days after Christmas.
"Thank you, precious little girl,? he said softly, ?For the honor of crying, not for you, but with you."
I can't believe they misspelled "Pork and Beans!"