This is an excerpt from my missionary journal. It's very personal and I'm hesitant to post it. But if this experience inspires anyone to be more compassionate towards someone in need, than it is good to post it. This is also an attempt on my part to be more open about my spirituality.
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Hazel is a member of the church who was never been very active. An old woman, she is now in a nursing home. Hazel is a victim of Parkinson's disease, which causes the body and muscles to stiffen up so you can't move. So here she lies, all day and all night, hour after hour, day after day. She is still very much sane and alert as to her surroundings, which makes her situation all the more difficult and boring.
We stop in to visit her as often as we can and say a prayer with her. Sometimes she cries and asks why the Lord would have her continue living this way. Once or twice she has pleaded with us not to leave her, so we stay a little longer and talk a little more before finally leaving. Walking out the door I turn to wave goodbye and again see that look in her eyes that calls out, "I need." How I wish I could do more.
As we stopped in today for a visit, she was awake and alert as ever. I couldn't help but wondered what thoughts must be going through her head as she lay there in the silence or listening to the ramblings and moans of the other patients. She shared her room with another woman for about a week. This woman was sane and clear of thought when she arrived but quickly deteriorated. She usually mumbled nonsense but on occasion she'd scream things like, "Help! Help me! They're trying to kill me! They're chasing me through the woods!" I don't know what this other woman suffered from, but she died shortly thereafter, leaving Hazel alone once more.
We didn't have much time to spend with Hazel today, as we were on our way to another appointment. We made a little small talk, which is always a bit difficult as I can barely understand her and Elder P**** can't understand her at all. I was rubbing her shoulder lightly, which was hurting her, and then she asked me to hold her hand. She then looked into my eyes and said, while crying, "I love you." I admit, I did feel a little uneasy at this show of emotion, for it has always been hard for me to express in words the love I have for others. But I opened my mouth and out it came, "I love you too." Then she said something that troubled me, "I'm afraid" she exclaimed in a weak and shaky voice. How my heart goes out to her. I felt so inadequate and yet I gave what encouragement I could before we had to leave. Her needs are great and our time is short.
My mind was kept busy throughout the day with the work and discussions we taught, but after returning home my thoughts went back to Hazel. I then remembered one of the great teaching of Jesus Christ, "When ye do it unto the least of these, ye do it unto me," and as I remembered Hazel's words, the spirit did witness to my soul that Jesus does indeed love me, and I wept.
Now to the casual reader this may seem unimportant, but this experience is a pearl unto me and has helped me develop my love for others. It is truly a blessing to be in the service of the Lord. A mission is truly a labor of love.
