Living with Cerebral Palsy

A friend sent me this story. I have no idea who authored it. As you read, your first thought will probably be: “What does this have to do with living with cerebral palsy. But, pay particular attention to the end. Think about it. I think you will understand why it moved me to post it.

MAGNOLIAS

I spent the week before my daughter’s June wedding running last-minute trips
to the caterer, florist, tuxedo shop, and the church about forty miles away.

As happy as I was that Patsy was marrying a good Christian young man, I felt
laden with responsibilities as I watched my budget dwindle . . .So many
details, so many bills, and so little time.

My son Jack was away at college, but he said he would be there to walk his
younger sister down the aisle, taking the place of his dad who had died a few
years before. He teased Patsy, saying he’d wanted to give her away since she
was about three years old!

To save money, I gathered blossoms from several friends who had large
magnolia trees. Their luscious, creamy-white blooms and slick green leaves
would make beautiful arrangements against the rich dark wood inside the
church.

After the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding, we banked the
podium area and choir loft with magnolias. As we left just before midnight, I
felt tired but satisfied this would be the best wedding any bride had ever
had! The music, the ceremony, the reception – and especially the flowers –
would be remembered for years.

The big day arrived – the busiest day of my life – and while her bridesmaids
helped Patsy to dress, her fiancé Tim walked with me to the sanctuary to do a
final check. When we opened the door and felt a rush of hot air, I almost
fainted; and then I saw them – all the beautiful white flowers were black.
Funeral black. An electrical storm during the night had knocked out the air
conditioning system, and on that hot summer day, the flowers had wilted and
died.

I panicked, knowing I didn’t have time to drive back to our hometown, gather
more flowers, and return in time for the wedding.

Tim turned to me. “Edna, can you get more flowers? I’ll throw away these
dead ones and put fresh flowers in these arrangements.”

I mumbled, “Sure,” as he be-bopped down the hall to put on his cuff links.

Alone in the large sanctuary, I looked up at the dark wooden beams in the
arched ceiling.

“Lord,” I prayed, “please help me. I don’t know anyone in this town. Help me
find someone willing to give me flowers – in a hurry!”

I scurried out praying for four things: the blessing of white magnolias,
courage to find them in an unfamiliar yard, safety from any dog that may bite
my leg, and a nice person who would not get out a shotgun when I asked to cut
his tree to shreds.

As I left the church, I saw magnolia trees in the distance. I approached a
house…No dog in sight. I knocked on the door and an older man answered. So
far so good….. No shotgun.
When I stated my plea the man beamed, “I’d be happy to!”

He climbed a stepladder and cut large boughs and handed them down to me.
Minutes later, as I lifted the last armload into my car trunk, I said, “Sir,
you’ve made the mother of a bride happy today.”

“No, Ma’am,” he said. “You don’t understand what’s happening here.”
“What?” I asked.

“You see, my wife of sixty-seven years died on Monday, on Tuesday I received
friends at the funeral home, and on Wednesday . . .. He paused. I saw tears
welling up in his eyes. “On Wednesday I buried her.”

He looked away. “On Thursday most of my out-of-town relatives went back
home, and on Friday – yesterday – my children left.”

“This morning, he continued, I was sitting in my den crying out loud. I miss
her so much. For the last sixteen years, as her health got worse, she needed
me. But now nobody needs me. This morning I cried, Who needs an
eighty-six-year-old wore-out man? Nobody! I began to cry louder. Nobody
needs me!”

“About that time, you knocked, and said, ‘Sir, I need you’.”
I stood with my mouth open.
He asked, “Are you an angel? The way the light shone around your head into my
dark living room…”

I assured him I was no angel. He smiled. “Do you know what I was thinking
when I handed you those magnolias?”

“No. I decided I’m needed. My flowers are needed. Why, I might have a flower
ministry! I could give them to everyone! Some caskets at the funeral home
have no flowers. People need flowers at times like that and I have lots of
them. They’re all over the backyard! I can give them to hospitals, churches
- all sorts of places. You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to serve the
Lord until the day He calls me home!”
I drove back to the church, filled with wonder. On Patsy’s wedding day, if
anyone had asked me to encourage someone who was hurting, I would have said,
“Forget it!” It’s my only daughter’s wedding, for goodness’ sake! There is
no way I can minister to anyone today. But God found a way. Through dead
flowers.

“Life is not the way

The way you cope with it is what makes the difference.”

This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 29th, 2011 at 11:04 am and is filed under living with Cerebral Palsy. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.