An Episode on the Bus

On 3/10/09 11:31 AM, “Carolyn Hanson” wrote:
Nina,

Thank you for everything you did this morning for the young woman on the bus. I thought I would share my thoughts with you about this morning. I sent this to my family a moment ago. I want you to know how much you influenced me with your righteous example today. You are a wonderful woman.

“This morning on the bus I decided to read the Relief Society lesson that Cindy Crandall recently asked me to teach for this Sunday. The title of the lesson is “Living with Others in Peace and Harmony.” I had read the lesson once and just made it to the “Suggestions for Study and Teaching” questions at the end of the lesson. One of the questions read “Consider other examples you have seen of people remaining calm and peaceful in difficult situations. What resulted from the actions of those people?”

As I sat there considering the thought, a woman at the front of the bus started throwing up in a bowl. I had actually seen the bowl when I entered the bus. As I entered I thought “Great. That looks like our throw up bowl. Why in the world did she get on the bus when she knew she wasn’t feeling well?!?” From Salem to Spanish Fork she threw up into the bowl, coughing and spitting. I was sick. I was mortified. A bus full of passengers with the wafting smell of throw up drifting back. A woman sitting across from the ill patient moved to another place in the bus.

Frozen in my seat, I watched as the Relief Society moved into action. Nina Lewis, who was sitting next to me, said “excuse me” as she climbed over my legs. Moving to the girl, she started talking to her. Nina had nothing – no napkins to offer – just a soothing voice. I had had only ungenerous thoughts to offer. The bus stopped at the library. The woman who had previously moved, stood up. Walking to the front she offered to take the bowl outside and empty it. She washed it out in the snow. When she got back on the bus, the bus driver offered a stack of napkins.

Humbled, I started to cry. (This is never good for mascara first thing in the morning.) My objections vanished. I wish I had done something so exemplary.

Joseph Smith said, “If you will put away from your midst all evil speaking, backbiting, and ungenerous thoughts and feelings: humble yourselves, and cultivate every principle of virtue and love, then will the blessings of Jehovah rest upon you, and you will yet see good and glorious days; peace will be within your gates, and prosperity in your borders.”

Nina returned to our seat. The young woman was on her way to dialysis. She had to take two buses this morning to get there. Her breakfast had not settled well. Nina offered to pick up their department truck and drive her to dialysis after arriving a BYU. Gratefully the young woman accepted the ride.

I had witnessed examples of two women who remained calm and peaceful in a difficult situation. We were all affected by their actions. A young woman was compassionately helped. We were spared the smell coming from the front of the bus. My ungenerous thoughts were checked. I now have a Relief Society lesson. More importantly, a humbled heart.”

Love you,
Carolyn

On 3/10/09 2:18 AM, “Nina Lewis” responded:

Carolyn,

Here’s the other side of the story:

I was deeply engrossed in my reading on the bus this morning. (That’s a bad habit I have where I am totally oblivious to my surroundings while reading.) Did the girl’s first retching bring me to awareness? No. Her second one? No. Was it the smell of her vomit? No. It was her sputtery cough that made me finally realize that something was wrong.

I surveyed the others on the bus. Nobody was doing anything for her. I evaluated the situation and came to the conclusion I didn’t have anything that could possibly help her. Because I was sitting on the inside seat by the window, I assuaged my conscience thinking how cumbersome it would be to put down my book, put down my bag with my purse and lunch in it, and put down my laptop bag and climb over you to go to the girl. But then she retched again. A scripture came into my mind, “in as much as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren . . . “ This girl was definitely ‘one of these.’

I felt like an elephant climbing over you. (I feel a kinship to those behemoths — I’m as huge, grey, and wrinkly as they . . .) But I knew your kindness you would be forgiving of my smashing all over you.

As I gently talked to the girl, I found out her name was Amy. She told me she had been on dialysis since she was 11. She had had a kidney transplant at that age but it didn’t work. So for the past 11 years she has been going 3 times a week to dialysis.

As we walked through the warmth of the Wilkensen Center to my office in the library, I had hoped that she might feel a wee bit better. Not so. We made it to the bathroom by the bowling alley which had a couch for her to sit on. As she sat (luckily without throwing up), I washed the bowl out more with soap and water (the smell was still lingering on).

Sometimes some of our employees use our department car and keep it over night. I silently prayed the whole walk to our office that the car would be available. Amy was struggling to walk because she felt so weak. She actually shuffled more than walked. My prayers were answered. The car was available. But then we had to walk to the parking lot where the car was (south of the Wilkensen Center). I kept my arm around her to make sure she didn’t faint from being light headed — or from slipping on the ice. (I had fallen last winter, smashed my face, broken my front teeth and my elbow so I know how dangerous falls can be . . . )

We got to the car — the car that had 5 inches of snow all over it with an inch of ice frozen solid on all of the windows. I got Amy settled, started the car, and scraped and scraped off the snow and ice. When I was almost finished, a young man (most likely a student) offered to finish cleaning the windows. What a good Samaritan.

By the time the windows were cleared enough to drive, the car was warm and toasty. The color had slightly returned to Amy’s face. I drove her to the dialysis center which is just west of Utah Valley Regional Medical Center. As we drove up to the door, she insisted she was fine. She got out of the car and walked inside the building. I sat in the car watching her go through the glass doors. The last I saw of her, she walked through another inside doorway.

I know that when my children have been sick and have thrown up, the thing they wanted most was to have mother there to put a cool hand on their forehead, to help clean their face, and give them a cool sip of water. I wasn’t able to really do any of these things for Amy.

As I drove back to work, I couldn’t get Amy out of my mind. It’s embarrassing to throw up in a public place — especially on a bus when you are far from home and far from the comfort of your bed. It’s embarrassing to throw up on a bus loaded full of strangers. The scripture kept running through my mind “. . . . In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

I don’t know about being a righteous example. Your description of me is too kind . . . Most of the time, I’m an awfully slow learner. But, just this once, I think I got it right.

Humbly,
Nina