Saturday, August 07, 2010

Heart of Gold

By Belinda

Beneath the  fur beats a heart of solid gold.

It is a contented heart, that asks only for a human friend to walk beside.I thank God often for the gift that he is to our household.

A weekend spent alone, just we two, and suddenly I am conscious of how often I move from room to room as  he moves with me around the house.

I make a dent in the long list of chores I planned to accomplish. One oven and two fridges are clean. It is time to go and visit a friend.

Molson hops into the backseat of the car. A pretty gift bag with green leaves, lilac flowers and with matching tissue sits in the front. We have a 75th birthday to acknowledge and celebrate.

We find our way through a maze of hallways to her cosy room. Dolls line the shelves and everything is tidy and in place. Her back is towards the door and she is watching a movie. At our entrance her eyes sparkle with delight and surprise. "It's you!" she says.

We have time for a walk before supper is ready and I push her wheelchair towards a group of people arranged in a circle, like flower petals. There is a t.v. in the room that no one is watching.

No one moves in the circle. Eyes stare into space and limbs seem frozen in place, except for a white haired woman in pink, who suddenly alert, reaches out her hand to Molson. "He's a lovely dog," she says, and Molson licks her hand obligingly.

She motions with her hand for us to come closer and drops her English accented voice. "I've been going back into my past these last few days; and it isn't good. I get a little lost."

Her voice lowers more, "I went right back to when I was 12 or 13." She shakes her head at herself.

I wonder what it would be like to go back and fear getting lost there forever.

Later, when our friend Fanny and I come back towards the dining room I notice the eyes of one of the people who seemed frozen. They are on Molson. I walk towards the woman and her expression becomes more animated. "Do you like dogs? His name is Molson."

Her mouth moves with effort, "Molson," she echoes back, her eyes bright and vibrant. Her hand stretches out towards him. He has brought her to life.

It is supper time; his golden deeds for this day are done; we head for home.


Susan said...

Aw, God bless you Molson...

Anonymous said...

I am so thankful that God gives some people the gift of relating an experience in such a way as to put me in the room. I'm also thankful for the desire, discipline and delight He gives you to use that gift :o)


Theresa said...

Before I read the name I knew that sweet woman sitting beside Molson. So glad that Molson could brighten her I remember celebrating her 65th, how time flies! :)

Belinda said...

Thank you Deborah. You are a great encourager!

Belinda said...

Theresa! Now I know who you are too! :) I wondered...:) I'm glad you recognized our mutual friend. Thank you for visiting so often.

Dave Hingsburger said...

I once saw a tee shirt that said, 'I want to be the person that my dog thinks I am'. But I think it better said, 'I want to be like the person that my dog already is!'

Belinda said...

Dave, I'd buy the T shirt!

I love watching how people relate instantly to a dog, where they would not connect with a human. There is something very special in these furry beings.