Friday, June 27, 2008
by Shirley Bahlmann
One afternoon a beautiful dark-haired young lady was rolled into my booth by a tall, blond young man who turned out to be her brother. The young lady was Mary Ann. Her mother explained that a semi broadsided Mary Ann when she was driving with her cousin. Her cousin didn't survive. Mary Ann escaped with a bruise on her brain, which left her unable to walk.
"They gave her three hours to live," Mom added.
Mary Ann waved her hand to get my attention, then with slow speech, said, "Sil-ly do-c-tors don't know an-y-thing."
Her brother hovered protectively above her, watching our exchange. Her sister stood nearby, and her mother translated for her daughter, even though I understood everything Mary Ann said.
Later, I met Mary Ann's father. He's a writer who published his own book, and he shared a piece of poetry he wrote that inspired the book. He's got some interesting things going on, and is ready to pick up writing after spending so much time caring for Mary Ann during her recovery.
I was impressed with a family who seems to have turned tragedy to triumph. They helped me appreciate life as it is given, and it was a pleasure to meet them.
Shine on, Mary Ann.