A few years ago, I saw one---a hero, I mean. It wasn't at the movie theater or on a televesion screen. She wore no "S" on her white shirt, just a small red heart, no cape on her back, but her bravery was still very visible to me. She was not tall, or physically strong as the world portrays all heroes to be.
She didn't fly or disappear and didn't seem aware of her "hero status," Nevertheless, she is indeed a hero and certainly thought very brave by those who love her.Entering the elevator at the hospital. I noticed a little girl next to me.
Immediately recognized her smooth hair growing beautifully from what was probably her last medical therapy. It looked like she had won some battles, but still yet to win the war.As the mother of a little girl my heart was immediately drawn to her. Quietly I watched her and noticed a cell phone next to her ear. She was softly crying, and the tears stains on her cheeks showed she had been weeping for awhile. I heard what sounded like a male voice on the other end of the phone.
Though I couldn't hear the conversation, this little one repeated the same words over and over, "Because I don't feel good."I gathered her daddy was asking her why she was crying. Her words pierced my heart. Most would be in their mother's arms being cradled closely. Not this little hero. Though her tears were telling a story, she stood very proud and tough.That's what happens when you look death straight in the eyes, or when you have endured more pain than most will suffer their whole lives. That's what happens when you keep fighthing though the odds are against you and when the struggle for life is greater that the power of death.Suddenly, my problems looked microscopic.
What I have gone through along with what I have yet to experience would probably not equal what this little one has suffered. Though her face will probably make it to the 7 o'clock news or the front of bread and cheeze, it will never leave my mind.
God let me see her at that moment for a reason:
She wanted her plight to rescue me from my pain and disappointments and, perhaps, even my despair. She succeeded---just as any true "superhero" would.In her words of encouragement to her dad (yes, she was telling her daddy that everything was goin to be all right)--sprinkled with both tears and laughther--was a mountain of courage, the strenght of a giant, and the heart of a lion. In her smile she showed her refusal to give up the fight. And she made it as beautiful person as she is now!
Sometimes we look for heroes in all the wrong places. Let Jesus be your heavenly Hero, but look for insperation in places you least expected to find it, like in the strong fighting stance of a very sick but joyful little girl on an elevator in middle of the afternoon.One of the best ways we can grow in compassion is through simple acts of kindness.
Look into spending a morning or afternoon in volunteer service at a local hospital, charity work institutions, in your neighboor villages,or another compassionate ministry in your hometown. Never questioned why some people choose to be alone and sacrificed their personal needs and happiness out of helping people.
We don't have idea how difficult they went though in life. Instead, be thankful that there are still like them willing to help people in their on little way. We may not know what life ahead of us. They are probably sent by God to set good examples and serves as an inspiration for those who still struggling, and unsure about real life happiness.
Real happiness does not depend only on having someone in your life. The greatest happiness can be found in any forms, just like the happiness I feel in my heart when I can make someone smile in a moment even though you can visibly see the hardship of their fights.