Two women, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One woman was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. Her bed was next to the room's only window.
The other woman had to spend all her time flat on her back. The women talked for hours on end. They spoke of their husbands and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in voluntary services, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the woman in the bed by the window could sit up, she would pass the time by describing to her room-mate all the things she could see outside the window.
The woman in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where her world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and colour of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every colour of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.
As the woman by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the woman on the other side of the room would close her eyes and imagine the picturesque scene. Then unexpectedly, a sinister thought entered her mind. Why should the other woman alone experience all the pleasures of seeing everything while she herself never got to see anything? It didn't seem fair. She wanted the bed by the window.
At first thought the woman felt ashamed. But as the days passed and she missed seeing more sights, she allowed her envy to erode into resentment and it soon turned her sour. She began to brood and she found herself unable to sleep. She should be by that window -- that thought, and only that thought now controlled her life.
Late one night as she lay staring at the ceiling, the woman by the window began to cough. She was choking on the fluid in her lungs. The other woman watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling woman by the window groped for the button to call for help.
Listening from across the room she never moved, never pushed her own button which would have brought the nurse running in. In less than five minutes the coughing and choking stopped, along with that the sound of breathing. Now there was only silence -- deathly silence.
The following morning the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of the woman by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take it away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other woman asked if she could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure she was comfortable, she left her alone. Slowly, painfully, she propped herself up on one elbow to take her first look at the world outside through that window.
Finally, she would have the joy of seeing it all herself. She strained to slowly turn to look out through the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall!
The woman asked the nurse what could have compelled her deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the woman was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps she just wanted to encourage you." Or perhaps it was her way of looking at life. She saw colourful events, rainbows and joyful people where there was just a blank wall.
Comments