I Will Never Forget Her This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.


   I chose to complete the 40service hours required by my high school at a wonderfully modern and pleasantnursing home. My service consisted of transporting residents to the dining hallfor lunch, visiting them in my off-time and participating in the daily activity.I could recount hundreds of memories, but one in particular will always remainwith me.

One Sunday I was walking down the hall on the residents' floorafter transporting the folks to the dining hall for lunch. Passing the last room,I saw a woman in a wheelchair facing the window farthest from the door. I couldsee she was upset. I was still rather new, but I went over to address her problemas well as I could. She looked at me, almost in tears, and said that no one hadever come to get her. She told me how alone she was, and how she hated beingthere. I truly sympathized with her, and found someone she could talk to aboutthe problem.

The next time I went there, I visited her and she told meabout her life. Her name was Luella Murphy; I called her Miss Luella. She was asweet, healthy older woman whose family was on the East Coast, so she rarely hadvisitors. I learned Miss Luella had a spoon collection. Every spoon ignited amarvelous story, and I loved listening. I saw one with a citrine birthstone, andasked if she was born in November. She said yes, and to our surprise, we found weshared the same birthday. From that day on, I had a wonderful friend.

OneSunday, I went to visit her as usual, but she wasn't there. I frantically asked anurse what had happened. She told me Miss Luella had a stroke and was moved tothe medical center. I went to see her, but she was sleeping. She seemed mucholder as I stood looking at her with machines helping her breathe.

I cameback the following week to find her visiting with two people. I didn't want todisturb her, and was sure I would see her the next week when she would tell meanother story about the good times in her life. But when I returned, she wasgone. The nurse told me she had died.

I was hurt, yet I knew it wasinevitable. It's still hard, but I like to remember our times together,especially the day we realized we had the same birthday.




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

smoothy said...
Dec. 10, 2008 at 7:44 pm
I love this story so much. I think you did the right thing. I love hanging out with the precious older people. They always have wonderful story. I felt tears piling in my eyes.
 
MySharona replied...
May 4, 2014 at 6:06 am
Hey there, I just found a painting in a thrift shop, its beautiful and is signed Luella Murphy, I wonder if it was the same woman? Sweet memories of her and your wonderful heart for reaching out to her.
 
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