Day 11: The Power of Words

Aha:  I work in Pediatric Hematology/Oncology.  At least once every month I receive an email notifying us that one of our patients lost their life to cancer.  It is very depressing and my heart aches for their family and friends.  There are happy moments working in this field however and today I got to experience my first "ringing of the bell".

When one of our kids finishes their last chemo treatment they read this special plaque and ring a big bell that hangs above it.  Everyone cheers and the patient gets to enjoy the celebration!  It is a great occasion.  Today was something beyond what I could have ever imagined.

The patient was a little boy (probably around eight- or nine-years-old).  I couldn't quite see his little face, but I could hear him reading.  I then heard the loud clanging of the bell and my heart leaped for joy!  His mother was bawling and he was happily giving out hugs to the staff and providers who helped him through his treatment.  As the large group of adult-onlookers began to return to their work, this little boy stepped forward into the crowd and said the most profound thing I've heard in quite sometime.  He said, "God will bless each of you.  He will protect all of the kids out there.  Thank you."  I lost it.

This kid had just finished about three years of chemotherapy and his first words after ringing the bell were "God will bless and He will protect."  All things were put into perspective for me in a matter of about three seconds today.  What a powerful testimony that child shared with me.

From the mouth of babes.

Ha ha:  

I was just thinking about what happened a couple of weeks ago when Clinton, Peter and I were laying in bed lazily on Saturday morning.  Petey was up by our faces (he likes to steal my pillow) and we were both giving him loves.  As we had not yet gotten up and brushed our teeth, the typical "freshness" of morning breath was plaguing both of us (and apparently, Petey too).  I mentioned to Clinton that his breath was bad but he was in denial.  He went back to petting Peter for some comfort from my "snub" and asked Peter:  Who's a bub?  To which Peter promptly responded: *gag* *aack*. 

I had told him it was bad, but it took a non-speaking being to convince him.

We laughed till the room filled up with the smell of morning breath.