"The sincere friends of this world
are as ship lights in the stormiest of nights."
~ Giotto di Bondone
One of my
dearest friends will be moving away soon -- clear to the other side of the
world.  And one of her concerns as she
prepares for what will surely be a great adventure is what she will do without
her village.  Her village will not be
physically close, but we the villagers have pledged to be there for her.  And I have no doubt that we will.  (I also know that given what a terrific person
she is, she will continue to expand her village and will find new members in
her new home.)
I was
reminded of the sanity-saving kindness of my own village very recently.  I unexpectedly found myself in the hospital
with a loved one.  Everything turned out
fine, but I didn't know that as my relatively short odyssey began.  But my villagers kept me sane and held me up.  I felt completely sustained by the kindness
of those dearest to me.  And even by a
former colleague.
My soon-to-be
faraway friend immediately asked what she could do and if I needed her to take
care of my children.  She texted me
messages of support and encouragement. 
"I am sure you are terrified, but be strong, " she
texted.  She told me what to do, how to
deal with my loved one, what to tell the nurses...  It was step-by-step instructions.  When I couldn't think, she was thinking for
me.  Although she is younger than me, she
frequently feels like my older sister. 
And I love her for it.
As I shared
the news with other friends, they texted to ask what they could do.  I reached out to a friend whose husband is a
doctor and she had her husband call me. 
He spoke to the emergency room doctor and all of a sudden we were
getting the attention that we needed, but had not received before.  We were actually told that they might not
have the medicine we needed ("there is a national shortage") and
there was a line for the diagnostic test. 
After our doctor friend spoke to the ER doctor, the medicine appeared
and there was no wait for the test.  Sad,
but true.
Once I was
assured that things would be fine, I realized that I needed to eat and so I
went looking for the hospital restaurant that was supposed to be very
close.  I became lost in the labyrinth of
hallways and was feeling overwhelmed when I ran into a former colleague.  She said she was visiting her grandmother and
asked me why I was there.  I told her and
explained that I was trying to find something to eat before I fainted, but that
I was lost.  She gave me a big hug and
walked me to the restaurant, and then showed me how to get back to the
Emergency Room area.  I felt as though I
had run into an angel in the hospital hallway.
After
arriving back home, friends continued to text to see if they could help.  A married couple from out-of-town texted to
say that they were going to the grocery store and could they get us anything.  I knew that I needed two things to get
through the children's breakfast and lunch the next day, and so I asked them if
they could pick those up for me.  (I find
it hard to ask, but I felt as though I could not do one more thing.  What is it about hospitals that wear us out?)
I made it
through our relatively small ordeal tired, but grateful -- incredibly
appreciative for the kindness of my wonderful village.  I felt loved and supported, which was exactly
what I needed.