Character Begins At Home...

 

1. The first Tuesday of each month is a Popcorn Party at Park Meadows. 

2. The following Monday is a Popcorn Party at Gainesville Health & Rehab.

3. The second Tuesday of each month is a Popcorn Party at Altrusa.

4. The following Monday is a Birthday Party at Gainesville Health & Rehab.

5. The third Tuesday of each month is a Birthday Party at Park Meadows.

 

Here is a note from Marilyn Wagner (michigandermom@juno.com) about one of her family’s nursing home visits with Lena: 

The trip to the nursing home was amazing this Monday.  At one point, Nicole was talking to a burn victim.  His nose and one ear and both arms were burned off. I was so touched that God was giving her the grace to linger there, talking. Later, I asked if it was hard to do.  She said it was at first, but then it got easier.   

Another beautiful picture I saw was another teen with the birthday man who can't talk. Imagine having cake put in front of you and not being able to eat it or tell anyone that you need help.  She picked up the fork and fed him. I was touched, seeing Jesus in her.

What is A Nursing Home Party with Lena Bush like?

 

The following is a detailed description of one of Lena Bush’s nursing home parties.  It is written to help parents to familiarize their children with what they might expect at their first nursing home visit.

 

Lena arrives at the nursing home around 2:00, bringing a drink cooler and either a popcorn maker or a birthday cake, in addition to all the things that are needed for a party.  Families arrive between 2:00 and 2:30, and can help Lena carry in the party things.  Residents begin entering the dining room between 2:00 and 2:30.  Some walk in on their own.  Some are in wheelchairs; some are assisted by volunteers or staff.  Residents sit at small tables, usually four to a table.  There is a piano in the back of the room. 

 

Lena plays hymns and Christian music on a small boom box.  Then the children can help her make popcorn (or help cut birthday cake and put it onto plates).  Lena shows the children how to mix the punch, and then the children can take over, pouring punch into cups.  Around 2:30, when the party is supposed to begin (but the residents look forward to it and often start showing up early), the children begin serving each one at their tables. 

 

It looks a little scary at first to walk up to a very wrinkled stranger whose hair may not be combed, or who is shaking.  But most of the seniors begin to smile when a child approaches them, so the nervousness begins to be overcome by the realization that this is really easier than we thought. 

 

My children naturally held back, and in my heart, I did, too, not knowing what to expect, and not knowing if I would see or experience a need or a sorrow that I wasn't able to handle.  I noticed that while I was forcing myself to linger with each resident, that my children, at first, would quickly return to the popcorn and punch table, which was a "safe" place of the known, as opposed to the unknown world of strangers and seniors.  So, I began to prep them each month, telling them how much their smile meant to someone, how wonderful it was to talk to them.  I prepped them to tell them their name, how old they are, what they are learning in school, etc.  Eventually, the children began spending less time at the popcorn table, and more time following me as I greeted each one.  Eventually, because they began to recognize them, and thus establish a relationship with some of them, they began to feel free to approach various ones, who sometimes greeted them with big hugs and smiles. The entire party consists of this -- music playing, the children serving punch and popcorn or cake, the children giving refills, walking among the residents,  "Hello, how are you today?"  or, "Would you like some more popcorn?" or " My name is ___," or, “May I pray for you today?”  Then there is clean-up, picking up the old sacks and cups and throwing them away, and saying good-bye.  We leave around 3:00.

 

Sometimes, if our children have a song to sing, or a piano piece to play, or verses to recite, we just let Lena know, and after the food is served, she turns off the music, and then I just announce that the children have something to share.  One mother brought costumes, even for my children, to put on a Christmas play one year, and another time brought puppets and put on a puppet show that her children wrote and performed.  (The Freemans aren’t that talented!)  The show and play lasted only 5 or 10 minutes, and some residents did not understand them, or perhaps could not hear them, but the presence of children is very powerful for them.  They love them, and love being around them, and love being able to touch a hand, look into their eyes.  Another student brought her pet rabbit, and carried it from table to table, which was a great hit as the residents got to pet its soft fur. 

 

It might take a while for children to be comfortable enough to respond to the residents, but they will usually become more comfortable with consistent exposure.  Our children now look forward each month to our visits, but it has not always been that way.  We always pause in the car before we go in, and pray together, simply that the Lord would use us to encourage at least one person, to make a difference in someone's life.  I checked with the staff at Sunbridge, and the volunteer coordinator confirmed that asking if a resident would like prayer is allowed.   There have been times when I have asked if I could pray with various ones, when they open up and tell me of a difficulty they are going through, and my daughter has also prayed with some.

 

I always have our children wash their hands at the bathroom in the lobby before they go into the dining room, since they are handling food and delivering it to people whose health may be frail, and I always have them wash their hands as they leave, since they are holding and touching so many hands while they are there.  There is also a waterless soap dispenser in the dining room.  Sunbridge had one resident with AIDS who came to two of the parties, and the volunteer coordinator immediately notified us.  I served him, while our children served the others.  Also, if the children have a cold, cough or sniffles, I try to find a replacement from the mom’s group.  If I can’t find one, and have to cancel our visit, Lena understands.

 

After the children help Lena pack up and carry out her things, and put the three tables back in line that we used to serve, we take the elevator or stairs together to the 2nd floor, and visit a very special resident at Sunbridge, whom I wrote about in Chapter 8 of my book.  Her name is Queen Crawford, and she is a paraplegic who cannot come down to the party.  She always receives us with joy, and we listen to her catch us up on her news for about 10 or 15 minutes, and then we pray with her.  Sometimes families come upstairs with us to meet her, and she always loves meeting new children; sometimes they can't, and we visit her by ourselves.

 

We are gently altering the courses of our children’s lives by letting them "see" the needs in the world around them – and God causes their hearts to grow a little bigger each time they obey that small prompting to help someone, or linger a little longer, or stay when their feet want to move on, or show respect to someone because they are a person, not because they are appealing.  Nursing Home visits are not just where we teach our children to give; it is where they learn how to receive God’s grace, compassion, mercy, and love – and then experience the privilege of passing that on to someone else.  They inch out of their own comfort zones, visit after visit, and the Lord uses them to reach others with His loving touch.  And then, miracle of miracles, Jesus tells them that it was really Him that they were serving all along. 

And then the righteous will answer and say, Lord, when did we see You hungry and fed you, or thirsty and gave You drink?  When did we see you a stranger and took You in, or naked and clothed You?  Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and came to You?  And the King shall answer and say to them, Truly, I say to you, in as much as you have done it to the least of these my brethren, you have done it unto Me.  

 

Contact Lena Bush at (352) 372-7687 for more information and to sign up for a visit.   

 

Here is an anonymous poem shared with me by Mr. Larry Rust, a resident of North Florida Rehabilitation Center. 
 

An Old Lady's Poem 

Anonymous

 

What do you see, nurses, what do you see?

What are you thinking when you're looking at me?

A crabby old woman, not very wise, Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles her food and makes no reply

When you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try!"

 

Who seems not to notice the things that you do,

And forever is losing a stocking or shoe.....

Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,

With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill....

Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?

Then open your eyes, nurse; you're not looking at me.

 

I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,

As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.

I'm a small child of ten ...with a father and mother,

Brothers and sisters, who love one another.

A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,

Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.

A bride soon at twenty -- my heart gives a leap,

Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.

 

At twenty-five now, I have young of my own,

Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.

A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast,

Bound to each other with ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,

But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.

At fifty once more, babies play round my knee,

Again we know children, my loved one and me.

 

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead;

I look at the future, I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing young of their own,

And I think of the years and the love that I've known.

I'm now an old woman ..and nature is cruel;

'Tis jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,

There is now a stone where I once had a heart.

 

But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,

And now and again my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys, I remember the pain,

And I'm loving and living life over again.

I think of the years ...all too few, gone too fast,

And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, nurses, open and see,

Not a crabby old woman; look closer ...see ME!!