Ironwoman

Would you like to learn that your iron count is too low? You would, if in the next breath you learned that the doctor has plans to “fix” it. Starting next Tuesday, I’ll go in twice a week for 4 weeks to get iron infusions. Then, the doctor says, I’ll feel much better. Hey, I might get to dance at Justin’s and Laura’s wedding after all! That is, if someone will teach me line dancing before that.

Yesterday, I heard on the radio a charming story about a professor on the island of Crete (in Greece). Class was about over, and he asked, “Now, do any of you have any questions?” All were silent; they wanted to go home. Then, just before he dismissed them, a small and timid man near the back stood up and said, “Yes, I have a question. What is the meaning of life?” Everyone hooted. But the professor quieted them and said he’d like to try to answer the question.

He took his wallet from his back pocket and extracted a small shard of a mirror; it’s edges had been smoothed, and it was just over an inch in diameter. Many years before, during world war II, the professor and his peers—young boys, all—had watched from high on a hill as Nazi soldiers battled the local resistance army. When it was over, he and his friends went down to find souvenirs. He picked up this piece from a shattered motorcycle mirror, and honed the edges on a stone. Then he practiced re-focusing beams of sunlight in order to direct them into dark shadowed places.

“Then,” he mused, “I learned that it was more than a toy. It was a metaphor for my life. I myself was not the sun, the source of life. But I could reflect the light (truth, understanding, humor, and hope) where otherwise there is only darkness and despair. And that, I believe, is the meaning of life.” I like that! (I realize that real life comes only through a relationship with God. But reflecting light to others is surely the meaning of a human being’s life.)

Chuck's incision from Wednesday's surgery is healing well, but an adjacent dark spot (absolutely not cancer, the doctor had said) has swelled up and turned red. Please pray he'll be able to get it looked at today, and that it will be okay.

Love,
Carol