Glory, the day you were born

Glory, I was not by your side at the moment of your birth. It’s a pity I was not there to experience that beautiful sight of your struggling to enter this world…that inseparable feelings of pain and joy. In pain and fear, Mom went into induced labor, while doctors and nurses helped successfully to bring you into this world. That’s so amazing, so lovely! It was a Sunday when you arrived. I was at church delivering a sermon. It’s been 22 years. I cannot remember what I preached on that day. However I do remember dashing home after service to prepare lunch for your Mom. It was during that short period of time when the nurse called from the hospital to say that you were born, weighing 7lbs 3oz , healthy and beautiful!

 

Who would have guessed, 22 years later, you were brought into ICU. We were told by your doctor to be psychologically prepared, that you would leave us any moment. That was also a Sunday. I turned down my preaching engagement and arrived early at the hospital to be with you. I missed seeing your birth. I could not miss being by your side at your departure. I was determined to put everything down when you said your goodbye. I must be there for you, because you needed me. I saw how your doctor tried furiously to save your life. Her eyes were like those of a mother putting in all effort to save her child. They fought to keep you here. But you laid quietly, without a struggle, as though you had made up your mind to leave. Mom whispered by your side,” Glory, we are proud of you. I love you Glory.” Suddenly you responded intensely, trying to pull away the tube that had prevented you from speaking. We saw that you wanted to respond to Mom, you didn’t want to be sustained by the oxygen tube, yes, we understood.

 

Your life ended along with your beautiful personality. Even Dr. Meyer wrote in the sympathy card that your departure was a painful loss. Indeed, your departure is an immense loss to our society. I understood what he meant. Although you did not leave behind a legacy of historical endeavors, you were strong and heroic in your perseverance. You were wise, and selfless. You dreamt of giving yourself to the medical field, you embraced your treatment with bravery, you did not give up. Our society needs people like you. We need people with your perfect personality to change the world. It’s a pity you left us so soon. It’s also a pity that it is hard to find someone like you in today’s world.

 

Today’s youths are living in an era that is more peaceful, more blessed, more abundant, and more amazing than their previous generations. Even us, as parents and grandparents are a little jealous. But surprisingly enough, their souls are in deeper agony than ours. In our generation, we rode our bikes freely and imagined that we were touring the world. Yes, today, we can afford to buy an expensive car for our children, only to see them speed aimlessly down the highway, as though they cannot wait to crash a lamppost to end their lives.

 

 

The birth of a life often comes with a hope and a dream. As life matures, we go through the process of seeking, shaping, and achieving our dream. When life ends, our dream is either accomplished or demolished. The most beautiful thing in life is to see our dreams accomplished. The saddest, is to see our dreams broken. The moment when your doctor told us your cancer had returned, you and Mom cried bitterly. Very naturally, you turned and hugged her. You originated from her. In the end, you rested in her bosom….This only shows us, we return to where we came from. You could no longer fulfill the dreams we had for you….what about your dreams? Who will live your dreams for you?