~The Light Was On~
The love of neighbor in all its fullness
simply menas being able to say to him,
"What ae you going through?"
~Simone Weil
When I was in private practice as a pediatrician, life was always
busy, and the days and nights often ran together. I usually found myself
in the office late at night, just catching up on paperwork. I found this
time alone very peaceful. It allowed me to think about my patients and
their problems without distractions. It also allowed for clear thinking
about my own life.
One evening, after putting my own family to bed, I was back at the
office, going through stacks of charts. As I sat studying a patient's
chart, I heard a knock at the door. I assumed it was my partner, since he
was on call at the time.
I opened the door to find Brian, a sixteen-year-old patient of mine.
I had seen Brian enough times over the past few years to know him by name.
I asked him why he was wondering around at two o'clock in the morning.
"I was just out taking a walk and thinking," he replied. I invited him in
to have some hot chocolate and "talk and think together."
I put the water on to boil, and we began to chat. As the conversation
progressed, we both began to share a little bit about ourselves, our
worries and our frustrations. It was obvious Brian was full of fears and
anxieties that he definitely needed to express.
Brian told me about his girlfriend, who had just broken up with him,
and about his grades, which weren't as good as he would have liked. He
wanted to be an architect, but he worried that it would be impossible with
his grades. He told me that his parents fought a lot and that he felt it
was his fault. He said that he didn't know whether there was a God and,
if there was, whether God loved him.
I tried just to listen and offer encouragement where I could. I
had some contacts among architects, so I told Brian I wanted him to meet
them and learn more about the profession. Brian and I aslo talked about
positive things we planned to do to address some of our worries and fears.
Our conversation lasted two hours. Finally I drove Brian home, where I
saw him sneak in through a first-story window.
After that night, Brian frequently stopped by my office (at more
reasonable hours) to give me an update on his progress in various areas
of his life. He was a very pleasant, outgoing young man who soon became
good friends with my staff.
About six months after my first conversation with Brian, I moved
my practice to a diffierent location. A year after the move, I received a
graduation announcement from Brian. Folded inside the formal invitiation
was a hand written note.
Dear Dr. Brown,
I wanted to thank you for caring about me that night.
I don't think you ever knew, but I felt so bad that night, I planned to
kill myself. Everything in my life seemed so bad, and I didn't know what
to do next. As I was walking down the street, I saw your office and noticed
the light was on. Then, for some reason, I decided to talk to you. All that
talking, and your listening, made me realize a lot of things about my life
that were good. Some of the options and ideas you mentioned to me really
helped. I am graduating from high school, and I"ve been accepted to the
university's architecture school. I couldn't be happier. I know I'll have
hard times, but I also know I'll get through the hard times. I'm very, very
thankful that your light was on that night.
Sincerely,
Brian
I don't believe this note was the result of anything extraordinary I
did with Brian; our conversations had been very ordinary. But reflecting
on my acquaintance with Brain makes me think there was something quite
exceptional at work.
One might say it was fortuitious that I was in the office and that the
light was on, that night when Brian was contemplating suicide. I believe
the world works in a different way.
There is a light, or energy, that shines in and through each of us, to
provide guidance and support for ourselves and our fellow human beings.
And it was that lift that shone brightest on the night when Brian knocked
at my office door.
~James C. Brown M.D.
We cannot hold a torch to another man's path without brightening our own.