5.Visiting a nursing home had always been difficult for me. I’d stop by to deliver flowers, messages, and gifts, but staying for more than a few minutes was more than I could do. I felt helpless to take away the pain or lessen the loneliness the residents felt. And the prospect of one day being a nursing-home resident myself frightened me. Then my friend Sue, who’d been a vibrant and active woman all her life, became gravely ill and had to enter a nursing home. I visited her often, but I was never “living room comfortable.” Sue was too sick to chat, and I worried that my visits weren’t helping her. I discussed my problem with Dorothy, a friend at church. “Sometimes you can’t do much for the person you’re visiting,” Dorothy said, “but you can often do wonders for the family or the other patients in the room.” The next time I visited Sue, I was more relaxed. She wasn’t able to talk much, but her roommate was. I listened as the lady shared her joyful memories of friends and loved ones. As she talked, the years seemed to vanish from her face, and my eyes glistened with tears. She was so pleased! When I got up to leave, she squeezed my hand warmly and said, “Thank you for chatting with me. It meant so much to me. Sometimes I’ve wondered if anyone cared.” Dorothy’s words had helped me to look beyond my own fears and find a way to help someone else. Abba, Thank You for showing me that caring is never wasted.