A still-small voice has prompted me on what to post in today's blog of mine. I scan the folder from my PC and this is what I've got a touching story of two sick man in the hospital as shared to me by a member of our Church, Bon C. Reyes.
|screen grab: "The Hospital Window" |
video by drmezo4u
He never ran out of words to inspire his fellow who is weak, sick, and even frustrated for he is suffering so much and almost to give up. But yet this man in the story persisted and wanted his fellow man who is bed ridden like him to be happy, hopeful. He wanted his fellow hospital mate to know that there are things outside the window, which are pleasant and admirable.
I don't want to claim this as my original contribution. Therefore, I search the internet for possible copies of this story. And I found out there were many, but no author was cited.Until I found "The Hospital Window" from the YouTube uploaded by drmezo4u on Aug 28, 2011. It's almost a year now if we're going to recall.
People Stealing This Story
A YouTube user, Undivaleri left a comment on the said video by drmezo4u: "People keep stealing this story by Harry Buschman and never give him credit for it. It was published in Europe first and made into a radio play around the time of WWII or immediately after the war, and somehow the story got a life of its own. The original title is "The man by the window" by Harry Buschman."
I would like to thank Undivaleri for the info. Thus, I copied it too to give due credit to Harry Buschman for his works which everybody was inspired by it. There are also links that actually give credit to the original author and also the original short story of this often-quoted retold story.
Here's the retold story:
by Harry Buschman
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window . The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours endless.
They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.
Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window .
The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.
The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.
As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by.
Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days and weeks passed.
One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window . The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.
He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.
It faced a blank wall ..!!
The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window .
The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.
She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."
Are we that kind of person too? Can we afford to help others even though we are in trouble too and encourage them that there is still hope in the long run?
Related link: The Man by the Window (original short story) by Harry Buschman
photo credits: scribblerscorner.com, Buschman, the author