Summary of story hasty judgement by chatterbox
MY FAMILY AND I were gathered around my mother's bedside when a young man who worked for the convalescent centre entered the room. My wife tells the story far better than I could; here's what she wrote.
As soon as he stepped into the room I formed an opinion of him.
The young man had long hair pulled back in a ponytail. A large metal ring protruded from one ear. His body, though covered with a white lab coat, seemed to me thin and weakly.
I imagine you've formed an opinion of him just from this description.
Without looking in my direction he approached my mother-in-law's bedside.
"How are you today, Thelma?" he asked in a pleasant, cheerful voice that somehow didn't go with the perception I had formed of him.
Of course Thelma wasn't at all well. She had come to the Convalescent Centre with the knowledge that her days were numbered. Her kidneys had failed and she was slowly dying. It was small wonder, then, that she had complaints. As I watched the young man listening patiently to her list of woes and trying as best he could to alleviate them my perception of him changed.
Here was a young man who genuinely cared about people. He did not have a prestigious job. In fact, he probably got paid little for his labour. Yet he was putting his whole heart into what he did. Trying his best to ease the discomfort of those whose lives were drawing to an end.
As soon as he stepped into the room I formed an opinion of him.
The young man had long hair pulled back in a ponytail. A large metal ring protruded from one ear. His body, though covered with a white lab coat, seemed to me thin and weakly.
I imagine you've formed an opinion of him just from this description.
Without looking in my direction he approached my mother-in-law's bedside.
"How are you today, Thelma?" he asked in a pleasant, cheerful voice that somehow didn't go with the perception I had formed of him.
Of course Thelma wasn't at all well. She had come to the Convalescent Centre with the knowledge that her days were numbered. Her kidneys had failed and she was slowly dying. It was small wonder, then, that she had complaints. As I watched the young man listening patiently to her list of woes and trying as best he could to alleviate them my perception of him changed.
Here was a young man who genuinely cared about people. He did not have a prestigious job. In fact, he probably got paid little for his labour. Yet he was putting his whole heart into what he did. Trying his best to ease the discomfort of those whose lives were drawing to an end.