Sound of Surviving Blog

A few weeks ago, I attended a volunteer appreciation dinner at the pediatric facility where I volunteer at. It was an 80’s-themed dinner, and the cafeteria was all decked out with 80s-themed decorations. A few of the patients had been wheeled down from their rooms so that they could cheer on their favorite volunteers as awards were given out.

Two of the patients I’ve worked with, sat with my mom and me at our table. They couldn’t eat what we were having for dinner; they don’t get their meals the way we do. But I gave them some of the fun bracelets and stickers that were on our table. A few other patients who were there were sitting with their favorite volunteers as well. My mom asked if the two patients seated alongside of us were allowed to have any of the food we were eating, and I replied with, “No, I don’t think so.”

But these patients, along with all of the rest of the patients in the room, couldn’t care less. They were all just so happy to be there. My one patient kept whooping and hollering practically the entire time, because he was so happy and excited, just to be there. The other one didn’t stop smiling the entire time, from the moment she entered the room, to the moment she left. A few of the other patients in the room, who were older, also cheered with abandon when their volunteers were called up to receive their volunteer certificates.

During the ceremony, two of the patients went up separately, to sing songs with the music therapist intern for the crowd in the room. They both sang with such passion and joy that you couldn’t help but be dazzled by their performances. One of them, as the crowd went wild after her performance, was even cheering for herself, whooping out, “yeaah!”, and “wooohooo!” The entire dinner and ceremony, was truly one of the happiest experiences I’d ever had, not because of the food, the decorations, or the awards. That was all great, don’t get me wrong. But because of the fact that these kids who have nothing, who live with so many complications from their medical conditions, taught me something so valuable that night.

They showed me that we can celebrate life, even in the midst of hard times. That we can be joyful in tribulation. That we can love out loud, even when life is difficult. We don’t have to wait for something good to celebrate. We can celebrate every day. This is exactly what these children where I volunteer do. One of the patients in my classroom starts cheering and laughing from the second they bring her out of her room to go down to our classroom throughout the entire time she’s in school.

We often complain about all the things we have to do, we groan about our circumstances, but these children, without anything, who would give anything, to experience the life we live, never once grumble or moan, though they have every right to. These children, instead, emulate Paul’s commands in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus,” and David’s in Psalm 118:24: “This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” You see, neither of these verses say, “Rejoice only if things are good, and easy,” they both command us to “Rejoice always.”

   Each patient I’ve worked with at this facility has this God-given joy and resiliency, this strength that keeps them not just moving forward, but happy, joyful, and celebrating life each and every day.

Every time I volunteer, these kids give me the gift of reminding me how precious life is, and that we don’t have to wait for life to be good to celebrate it.