I have been a member of the Community Care team at my Corps (Salvation Army church) since my retirement fourteen years ago. Along with another team member, I visit the same nursing home every month. We go just to say hello and distribute our magazine, "The War Cry" and a small gift. We greet, listen, and offer a word of encouragement. When invited to do so, we pray with the resident, asking God to make Himself known as the great burden-bearer and the God of all comfort. Over a period of fourteen years, one can develop a strong attachment and admiration for these residents. I have made many friends.
One of my special friends is Bobbie Morgan*. Bobbie is retired from the military, and a small veteran's pension provides for her stay at the nursing home. When I first met Bobbie a number of years ago, she told me that she was from Alabama (I still have not discovered how she ended up in a nursing home in central New Jersey). My son lives in Alabama, and I am more familiar with that state than most New Jerseyans, and so Bobbie and I began to share stories.
We've talked together, laughed together and prayed together. I've learned of some of the difficulties of military life and some of the loneliness of nursing home living. She has learned more about different towns in the deep South as my son, a United Methodist minister, has moved from church to church over the years. I have visited her on "good days" when she was full of enthusiasm and joy, and I have seen her on "bad days" when pain and physical disabilities seem to sap her joy along with her energy. But she always knows me and greets me with a smile.
Recently, I visited Bobbie on a "bad day." The pain she was experiencing was marked on her face. The supplemental oxygen she was breathing indicated to me that the medical staff also knew it was a "bad day" and were doing all they could to make her comfortable. I visited longer than usual, spoke words of comfort, shared some Scripture and prayed with Bobbie. Glancing at my watch, I realized I had been there far longer than usual, and my co-worker would be looking for me. Smiling at Bobbie, I said: "Oh my, it’s getting late, I have to go now." Grasping my hand tightly, with tears in her eyes, Bobbie replied, "Oh, don’t go yet – You're all I have!"
God gave me a glimpse, at that moment, of the limitless value of our Community Care ministry. For many in that nursing home, I am all they have.
As one enters a room, it is quickly evident that the resident is lucky enough to have family and friends who visit them and care about them. Cards and balloons celebrating birthdays and special occasions, the person who may be visiting as I come, all show that the resident is loved. But there are other rooms, like Bobbie Morgan's, where the only evidence of any visitor is the small gifts that the Salvation Army lady has left behind. These visible objects remind them daily that God loves them; they are not forgotten; they are not alone. Multiply the Bobbie Morgans of this world, and you will understand why I am glad to be a Community Care team member in The Salvation Army. Jesus said, "When you serve the least of my children, you are serving me." (Matthew 25:40)
*Name has been changed.
Written by Gloria B. Hohn
Asbury Park, NJ
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