...can you handle this?...

When Joe would travel, he would email us updates and stories from where he was, the people he was meeting, what he was doing, what more he wished he could do, and what he was feeling. The following is from an email he sent out last Christmas when he was volunteering in India.

The question: “Can you handle this?”

It was an honest question, not a challenge.

A German doctor named Andy ran around. One of the patients had soiled himself. Another patient wet the bed. People served food. People emptied bed pans. The plastic gloves were missing.

“I only have 10 hands, can somebody take this?” Andy handed someone a blanket. Who knows why it needed to go to the laundry.

An American named John oriented me to Mother Theresa’s Home for the Destitute and Dying in Calcutta. He warned me in passing: “By the way, the word for ‘crap’ here is ‘shit’. It’s not because people are swearing, they just say ‘shit’. That’s the word: ‘shit’. And there’s a lot of ‘shit’ here.” He poured water on a soiled toilet seat as he said this. He continued, “When I got here, I was shocked when I heard the nuns say ‘shit’. So don’t be surprised if you hear them – they say it the most here.”

Just a few minutes later John helped change one of the patients.

Hans, an elderly German volunteer told me to put on gloves and get a pair for him.

This was all going on ER room style. I didn’t have time to think.

As I handed him the gloves he asked me to pull out the sheet from under the patient that John was holding up.

I did and stared to bunch it to make it easier to carry.

As my hand grabbed more of the sheet my hand felt heat. I froze.

Hans looked up at me, shocked and worried. He asked the question: “Oh… Can you handle this?”

I looked down at the now reeking, stained sheet. I could hardly bear the sight of my hand.

Part of me actually wanted to lie. Part of me wanted to say ‘no’.

In that moment I searched the room with my eyes.

I looked at Andy, who had come to India to volunteer for 3 months. He had forgotten to leave. There he was, 14 years later, still going strong. James, a volunteer from Scotland, who was 24 years-old came to India at age 21 and did not leave. He continues to help in the ward to this day. John, the American, had brought a group of friends to volunteer. He stood there, casually waiting for me to respond as he looked to see what his friends were doing.

Hans had this genuine look of concern on his face. He later told me that it took him 3 months to muster up the courage to change a soiled sheet. He glanced around the room to anticipate who would need attention next.

Volunteers from all over the world, and India, had come to help in any way they could.

I looked at the man who John was still holding up. He had been in an accident. A car had hit him. He also had TB. He looked me in eyes and smiled. He was not ashamed. His face was one lending support. No one is to blame for all the help that we need. We all need help.

I nodded.

I smiled.

I grabbed the rest of the sheets and walked to the laundry.

With a slight sense of urgency I patiently searched for a sink in which to wash my gloved hands. As the soap and water did its job, I laughed at myself.

“We” are all in this together. We are not above helping anyone. We simply cannot afford to be.

But for there to be a ‘We’ in this, the ‘Me’ in all of us must commit. We must come together.

There are many more stains to wash off this tapestry we call humanity. So much need.

There is so much comfort and joy that can come from us moving from Me to We.

Peace,
Love,
Joe