At the Nursing Home

Te Ao Hou, December 1959, Page 9

At the Nursing Home Just across the ward from me slept my newfound friend. She had been in before me, but was still waiting for the arrival of her little infant—for two weeks now—and her heavy breathing came to me across the ward, and I whispered a prayer for her, for I knew only too well how she must feel, to be so long away from her family; but because of the remoteness of her home, and the terrible road that she would have to traverse, her Doctor had sent her in early, for she had not made it with the last baby and neither had Doctor, but after a long dusty drive, had arrived there—too late. So this time—the eleventh time—they were taking no chances. I marvelled at her courage and fortitude, and her solicitude for me, when she herself was in such an unenviable position. She was so bright and cheerful, in spite of it all, and each morning when she awoke upon my asking “How are you?” would say, “Oh I'm well thanks, too well in fact; I only wish I weren't so well,” and I knew the anxiety beneath her cheerfulness, for her little ones at home, being cared for by an older daughter who had had to be recalled from boarding school.