I think the most important prerequisite for working with the elderly is to have a heart for old people. And maybe it’s something that God has programmed into some of us.
I’m pretty sure He did that with me. I can remember, as a child, sitting on the front steps of our house in Green Bay, Wisconsin, and watching old ladies in stout shoes walking along the treacherously uneven sidewalks with their canes. Sometimes they were just making the short trip to the corner store for a quart of milk or loaf of bread. Sometimes they’d march purposefully to the bus stop, intent on making the two-mile trip downtown for shopping and maybe a visit to Prange’s restaurant for coffee or to Kaap’s for a slice of out-of-this-world cheesecake.
I would watch them and my heart would ache with some mysterious longing. I would think, “I can’t wait to be old so I can suffer with them,” whatever that meant. And I still don’t really have a clue. Maybe it was a tender heartstring that the Lord had given me specifically for the elderly. Maybe it was simply a reflection of my love for one of those old ladies in particular, my own Granny, who lived with us and was my best friend until I grew up enough to begin rebelling against everything good thing God had ever given me – a rebellion that went on for nearly four decades.
Whatever the cause, I’m now approaching the age where that long-ago wish may well come true, and these early aches and pains are giving me hints of what I might be in for. Be careful what you wish for, as they say.
I’m pretty sure He did that with me. I can remember, as a child, sitting on the front steps of our house in Green Bay, Wisconsin, and watching old ladies in stout shoes walking along the treacherously uneven sidewalks with their canes. Sometimes they were just making the short trip to the corner store for a quart of milk or loaf of bread. Sometimes they’d march purposefully to the bus stop, intent on making the two-mile trip downtown for shopping and maybe a visit to Prange’s restaurant for coffee or to Kaap’s for a slice of out-of-this-world cheesecake.
I would watch them and my heart would ache with some mysterious longing. I would think, “I can’t wait to be old so I can suffer with them,” whatever that meant. And I still don’t really have a clue. Maybe it was a tender heartstring that the Lord had given me specifically for the elderly. Maybe it was simply a reflection of my love for one of those old ladies in particular, my own Granny, who lived with us and was my best friend until I grew up enough to begin rebelling against everything good thing God had ever given me – a rebellion that went on for nearly four decades.
Whatever the cause, I’m now approaching the age where that long-ago wish may well come true, and these early aches and pains are giving me hints of what I might be in for. Be careful what you wish for, as they say.
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