Nurturing Our Soul

A Kitty and a Prayer

One morning, I received a call from one of our Pediatricians asking me to sit in on a family conference. Before the meeting the doctor explained to me that she had just received the test results of a 7-year-old girl named Melissa. The tests revealed that she had a very advanced case of leukemia.

Melissa's mother was a single parent and her older sibling was severely developmentally disabled. The cancer had already spread to the point that even a bone marrow transplant was not an option. The little girl was going to die.

The doctor asked for my advice on how to break this devastating news, as well as for a prayer before we went in. There is no easy way to break news of this magnitude but to be open, honest and compassionate. I prayed that day for God to intervene on Melissa's behalf and that He use all of us involved as instruments of His healing.

The diagnosis, of course, devastated Melissa's mother but she vowed to be strong for her daughter. Melissa was a beautiful child — cheerful, very bright and with the manners of a little lady. Although she was in a lot of pain she would smile often and always say thank you when you did something for her — even when the phlobotomist would stick her arm to take blood!

Painkilling measures were taken to relieve her suffering and make her as comfortable as possible. As news spread about this little girl, each one of us reached out the best we knew how to help her cope with this terrible ordeal. With the aid of hospital staff and volunteers we made sure that someone was with Melissa 24 hours a day, giving her mother the opportunity to rest and take care of Melissa's brother.

I am moved every time I remember visiting her room and finding a nurse caressing Melissa's head or a volunteer reading one of her favorite stories. I recall one evening when she was having an exceptionally difficult night Dr. Zednikova came in and stayed with her all night comforting her. When I arrived early the next morning I found the doctor holding a sleeping Melissa her in her arms as she hummed a lullaby song.

A group of our church volunteers came in and put on a very funny but poignant puppet show explaining God's love to her. As I do with all my terminal patients, I asked Melissa what she wanted most of all that I could do for her. She told me she really missed her kitty, Tiger. "I really want to see him," she said. I mentioned this to her doctor and the nursing staff and with their permission we arranged for Tiger to be brought to the hospital in a small crate.

Melissa was sleeping when we arrived at her room so we placed the crate at the foot of her bed and opened the door. Tiger sauntered out of the cage, along the length of the bed and curled up next to Melissa's shoulder and began to purr. The purring made her open her eyes and with a big smile she hugged her kitty close to her and drifted back to sleep.

Two days later Melissa slipped into a coma and a week later passed away. The little girl's death affected me deeply. I struggled with how unfair life is and I wondered if all our efforts were in vain. Did we really make a difference in her life? Had God answered my prayer?

The majority of the crowd present at Melissa's funeral was hospital employees. After the services were concluded I found the girl's mother and expressed my sympathy. She said to me through tear-filled eyes, "I'm glad to see you. I have something for you that I'm sure Melissa would want you to have."

She handed me a piece of paper folded in half. Inside was an outlined drawing done in black magic marker of a smiling, little girl and a smiling cat holding hands. Above and below were written these words: "Thank you Paster Paul for my kitty. Love Melissa."

What I saw on that paper was more than just a drawing of a girl and her cat. It was an answer to my prayer. We had made a difference in Melissa's life. God had used us.

By Paul Crampton, Director of Chaplaincy Services