It took all Jane could muster up to hold back another
flood of tears.
Tears had become a commodity these last three months. A lot had fallen. Her face
seemed deeply lined now, a road map of concern covering her face.
Jane kept reminding herself, "God never gives you more than you can bear."
And it helped. But it still sapped her of all her energy when she went
into Lucy's room.
The picnicking bears on the wallpaper still were as cheerful as ever. And in the
depths of her memory, Jane remembered the laughter and childish enthusiasm that once
flooded this pink sanctuary to childhood. The toy box with the Cabbage Patch Doll
standing guard. The shelf with all the favorite books, dog-eared from first being
read to and later read by Lucy.
It all would have been a joyous scene, a perfect celebration of a vibrant little
girl's life if the sunbeam searing through the lace-curtained window did not spotlight the
reality of the moment.
There lie Lucy. Her hairless head wrapped in a bright-pink scarf. A tube ran
from a plastic bag hung from a pole down to her frail arm. The whir of the
life-supporting machinery, mixed with Lucy's labored breathing.
"This can't be my little Lucy," Jane thought fighting back the tears.
But it was.
It all had come on suddenly. One day she was scampering and being a normal 9 year
old and the next day, she hardly could get out of bed.
Perhaps it is just the flu, Jane had thought. But the tests had a much more serious
outlook.
Lucy had Leukemia. Jane knew a lot of cases could be cured. Lucy's,
unfortunately, did not appear to be one of them.
Like a flower after it has blossomed, Jane had to helplessly watch Lucy fade.
Her energy seemed to drain from her little by little. Now she was bed-ridden.
Dr. McGrudder, who had seen after Lucy since she was born practically, told her only
God knew the minute and the hour, but just a look at Lucy told Jane she might not
have much longer to share with her daughter.
She wanted every minute she could savor, so she asked that Lucy be able to remain at home.
Dr. McGrudder helped Jane with the request. Lucy's room was turned into a
miniature hospital room, so Lucy could be comforted by familiar surroundings.
Dr. McGrudder, or Doctor Mac as Lucy called him, even agreed to make house calls.
Jane knew that was a miracle in and of itself, so she prayed God would send down
another miracle and cure Lucy. She also prayed Paul's prayer, that God's grace be
sufficient, if God wanted to call Lucy home.
Even in her weakness, Lucy was a bright spot in the room.
It did not matter how she felt, she worked on mustering up the biggest smile she could
whenever anyone came to visit her.
Doctor Mac was hit with one of those Lucy's smile when he came in to check up on
her.
"How are you feeling," Doctor Mac asked.
"I'm alright," Lucy replied, trying to keep her smile intact.
Doctor Mac could see the strain in her face. It was an effort for her to lean up
on her elbow, but lean she did so she could peer into the jar that
was sitting on the nightstand next to her bed. The tubes pulled as Lucy leaned to
get a better look.
"What's in there?" Doctor Mac asked Lucy.
"That's my hope," Lucy replied.
"Your hope?," Doctor Mac question.
"Yep my hope," said Lucy. "I hope I get to see what comes out of that
thing," she said with a little chuckle at her own joke.
Doctor Mac knew it had to hurt Lucy to laugh, but there she was giggling at the joke she
put over on the doctor.
There in the jar was a little branch. Attached to the small piece of a branch was a
green, hard-looking capsule.
"Before I got sick, and had to stay in the bed, I found this out in the backyard when
Mommy took me out for a little air. I put it in the jar so I could look each
day to see what was in that brown capsule.
"Mommy says there is something alive in there. It looks pretty dead to me.
But I keep it next to my bed, look at it each day, and think, I hope I learn the
answer to that question," Lucy explained.
Although she knew how sick she was, Lucy had no problem using the word dead. It was
no secret that she was dying. She did not know what that would be like.
She knew most days she was in a lot of pain. There was not a lot she could do. But
she did not complain. In Sunday School, back when she was able to go, her teacher
had told them when people die, they go to God's house. And when they get there, they
get a brand new body. All the sickness they had on Earth would be gone and they
would feel good again.
Lucy thought about that when her pain was at its worse. A new body would not be too
bad. But like her Mom telling her there was life in that green capsule in the jar,
Lucy wondered whether God really had a place for her with a new body.
Doctor Mac saw the look of concern that crossed Lucy's face. "What
are you thinking about Lucy," he asked.
"Just things," Lucy replied. Her gaze returning to the glass jar.
The next morning, Jane was concerned with Lucy's condition.
Her breathing seemed more labored than most days. When she tried to rouse her, she
attempted to open her eyes but it seemed even that much labor was too much for her. Her
eyes never opened.
Jane picked up the phone and quickly called Doctor Mac. "Doctor Mac, Lucy won't
wake up!" she nearly screamed into the kindly doctor's ear.
Doctor Mac wasted little time getting to the house. As he entered Lucy's room, he
too knew there had been a turn for the worse. There was no smile for him this day.
There was no "Doctor Mac" as he entered the room.
Just a frail little form, dwarfed in the middle of the bed, tubes running to her, fluids
dripping down into her, and the sound of life sustaining equipment, whirring and beeping
in the background. Monitors showed Lucy was struggling.
Doctor Mac did not have to say a word, the look on his face let Jane know that Lucy was
failing and failing fast.
"How long," she asked Doctor Mac.
He just shook his head. Doctors are not supposed to get so attached to patents but
he had been with Lucy since she was a baby. He knew this might happen, but even with
all his medical training he had been trying to tell himself it wouldn't.
Mother and Doctor, they began the vigil at Lucy's bedside. Day light faded into darkness.
Lucy struggled but hung on.
Doctor Mac and Jane sat quietly, watching Jane and observing the monitors that charted her
condition. They were hoping she would open her eyes. Give them one of her big
smiles. They knew the only place this might occur again was in their memories.
They only passed small talk. "More coffee" "What is the weather
supposed to be like tomorrow," little snippets of conversation to pass the
time. To keep their minds from the reality of what was happening to Lucy. The
fact she would not be with them much longer.
As Doctor Mac set his coffee mug down on the night stand, he noticed some
movement in Lucy's
"My Hope" jar.
He picked it up and took it over to Lucy's bedroom window. The sun was just rising
on a new day. The light illuminated what Doctor Mac thought he had seen in the
shadows of Lucy's room.
The green capsule was cracking. Pushing out of it was a fragile, limp, wet-looking
creature.
It struggled to emerge from the capsule. Pushing, straining to escape the capsule
that had constrained it.
"Lucy, Lucy," cried the doctor. "Look at your hope!"
Jane, standing at Doctor Mac's side called over, "See Lucy, I told you it was
alive."
They carried the jar back to Lucy's bedside to show her the emerging butterfly.
They realized they did not hear the raspy sound of her breathing. Then an electronic alarm
sounded., a droning unmodulated note.
Doctor Mac pulled out his stethoscope. He searched for traces of life but Lucy had
slipped away.
"She did not get to see "Her Hope," Doctor Mac, said. Tears rolled
down the doctor's cheeks. He was no stranger to death. He had faced it many
times before. It just seemed so unfair it had to claim Lucy.
"I think she did see her Hope," Jane said. Tears ran down her cheeks too ,
but when she looked at Lucy's face, she felt relief pass through her body.
These was that great smile. Right across Lucy's face. A smile so big, that even in
death, it made Jane and Doctor Mac smile.
"Yes Jane, I do believe Lucy did see Her Hope," Doctor Mac said.
Doctor Mac and Jane went out to the warm air of the back yard. They need some fresh
air before going back in to do what they knew they had to do. While there,
they opened the lid to Lucy's "My Hope" jar.
It took a while for the butterfly to dry off in the rays of the sunshine. But
finally it lit
on the edge of the jar, it spread its orange and black wings a
couple of times. It felt the wind under it and the shine shining brightly and warmly upon
it.
Then after a tentative start, it fluttered away, with each flap a little more confident in
its new body.
"There is hope," said Jane, as she turned back to the house to make arrangements
for Lucy.
And Doctor Mac, a man of science, watched the butterfly until it fluttered out of sight.
"Yes Jane, there is hope, and Lucy taught both of us about it."
It was hard to say goodbye to Lucy, but like the butterfly, she had just left her earthly
cocoon. She knew if God gave the butterfly a new body, God certainly had
a new, healthy body for her."
As people processed past Lucy, to a person they remarked, "Look at that big smile on
that little girl;s face."
Even in death, she shared her hope.
There is not much that needs to be said to add to Lucy's story.
Both Doctor Mac and Jane grieved for Lucy. But they both also were glad she no
longer was suffering. They held on to the hope Lucy had given them.
In this Easter season, when the resurrection of Jesus is fresh in our minds, we too need
to cling to Lucy's hope that death is not the end, but through the salvation of Jesus
Christ, and God's grace and mercy, it is just the beginning. The start of a new
eternal life.
