The Cheerful Heart of Susie

Susie was one of a handful of residents greeting visitors as they walked into the nursing home. The front foyer was small, just big enough for a few wheelchairs and an upholstered chair or two for guests. The two large windows were low enough for the residents to watch the comings and goings of cars, staff and friends.

My trips to the nursing home were somewhat regular visits, usually on a Saturday afternoon.  My brother spent the final few years of his life there, living out the last days of a degenerative, Parkinson-like disease.

These nursing home visits could be discouraging, depressing and dark. The senses were put on alert immediately upon entering. On any given day, there might be a low wail or moan escaping from a bed down the hall, the strong odor of urine filtering down a corridor or the sight of a weakened body no longer in control.

And there in the midst of it all was Susie.

Susie once lived in Greece. I picture her in my mind’s eye as she might have been in her youth. I see her laughing and twirling in the dance of life. I’m sure she had a bountiful appetite for good food and a strong love for family and friends.

I never knew her in this previous life. Yet I believe my vision to be true. Let me describe Susie to you as she was on a Saturday afternoon not long ago.

Susie sits with this handful of greeters in their wheelchairs as we enter through the automatic front door. My eyes alight on the familiar group. One woman sits with her head on her chest, snoring softly. A man smiles weakly. I have never heard him speak, but his gaze meets mine clearly as he raises a hand in a slight wave. Another more active resident says, “Hello, how are you?” We chat for just a minute.

And then I spot Susie in her favorite spot just behind the large pillar in the front room. She leans forward in her wheelchair, curious to see who is behind the voices she hears. She peeks around the pole with a mischievous grin and a twinkle in her eye.

“Sophia! Hellooooo! Oh you look so beee…you…tee…ful today!” she expounds with a loud gust of cheerfulness.

For some reason, I feel beautiful when seen through Susie’s eyes. She really doesn’t know me and my name isn’t Sophia, but she is convinced that I am she.

The Saturday just prior, she called out,

“Gloria! How WONNnnderful to see you! Come and sit for a while!”

I have done just that on more than one occasion. She has regaled many an active listener with her stories. They are bold, vibrant stories of great adventure.

Her spellbound audience may hear tales of large weddings, dancing until the wee hours of the morning, stories filled with intrigue, stories of a life well lived. As she speaks, I can see the sparkling white of the homes and the beaches set against the brilliant turquoise of the sea. She gushes out the words as a flowing river, rich in tone and full of nourishment for the soul.

And just as clearly as I picture the scenery around her, I see her through her stories, not as she appears today, but as she sees herself and those around her through the memories etched in her heart.

In place of the hay-like spikes of her short gray hair there would be an abundance of long reddish cascading curls. The now frail frame would be covered with a bronze tan over voluptuous curves. Instead of the plain and comfortable black pants and striped blouse with a washed-out stain or two, there would be flowing dresses in brilliant colors.  She would remove her shoes, now encased in the steel of her chair, in order to run barefoot through the white sand or to sway beneath the stars.

Susie’s reality is not as we see it, a life lived out in a wheelchair, a body frail with age, clothed in drab dress, with wrinkled brow and unkempt hair. Her life is lived in memory and it is undeniably real. You can see it in her exuberant smile and glowing eyes. The energy and cheerfulness of Susie are contagious and I eagerly searched her out at each visit.

And so Susie reminded me to see beyond the sights and smells of reality at the nursing home. She reminded me to see the hearts and souls of each person young or old. And just as Susie sees each visitor through another lens, and welcomes each one with open arms and a sincere expectation of good things from all, so God looks upon each of us through a different lens.

He turns the smelliest corners of our lives, the darkest corridors and the weakest parts of us into something we can’t even imagine. He looks beyond it all and sees only His beautiful and beloved children.

And when God and Susie see us this way, we begin to feel bee…you…tee…ful! And as we accept this uncompromising vision for ourselves, we can turn and look through a different lens and view those around us with the eyes of an open and loving heart, the love of Christ.

The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord, looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7b