Flowers for Isa
You see, while on my morning walk, I turned left instead of right like I usually do and came across parents on the sidewalk freaking out with their little girl who’s maybe 2 years old and who seemed to be having a seizure. Vomiting, her eyes rolling up in her head, her face white, lips turning blue from not being able to breathe, she was limp in her father’s arms as he had her facing downward and patting her back. The mother saw me walking toward them, frantically pleaded for my help, seeing my phone in my hand, asked me to call 911. The father was pleading, saying the girl’s name over and over again, “Isa, Isa, Isa. Stay with us Isa. Oh, Isa. Help us, God. Jesus and Mary. Help us.”
And there I was suddenly thrust into an epic crisis trying to stay calm, trying to serve as a bridge between the very calm and professional emergency phone worker who at one point switched me to the paramedic at the 911 center – also very professional and patient – and the very upset parents who reacted in their various ways.
The father carried the girl inside their home, placing her on the bed and laying her on her side as we were instructed to do by the 911 personnel. And while we waited and talked on the phone with 911, the father continued talking to the girl, mostly in a foreign language that I later learned was Portuguese. Saying her name, Isa, Isa, rubbing her and stroking her hair. Isa was unconscious but breathing. Mom kept walking in and out of the room to check on her daughter and to watch for EMS. When the paramedics came, we found out that Isa had probably had a febrile seizure, which happens to babies and young children with very high temperatures. Isa’s temp was 102ºF. By the time they started to head to the hospital, she had started regaining consciousness. It looked like she was going to be alright. Whew!
All day yesterday, I had little moments when I stopped and sent out healing thoughts and prayers to that family. They were strangers to me, but before I left them, I managed to ask the mother her first name. I had no idea what the father’s name was. But there he was last night, at my door. He gone out to find me, ready to knock on doors until he did. He knew generally where I lived because I’d mentioned it to a neighbor who was at the scene too. He found me on the first knock.
He told me that Isa is back home and recovering from a virus. We spent a couple of minutes marveling at the various coincidences in the situation that both of us concluded were not coincidences but rather divine intervention. Then he handed me these beautiful flowers, saying formally and with deep sincerity, “On behalf of my family in the US and in Brazil, thank you from the bottom of my heart.” At last we exchanged our first names. When he heard my name, he said, “Angela. Angel.” And he made me feel like maybe I had been one of God’s messengers sent at the right time to help his family, to answer his prayer for help with a phone in hand to call 911. Because that’s all I did… I simply showed up at the right time, with a phone, and as much calmness and love that I could muster in the almost-helpless role I played in their family’s crisis.
And I can tell you… I have never received such heartfelt gratitude from anyone such as I did from this young parent. And I have never felt so humble and in awe of how wonderful people can be to each other.
Here’s what I think…. I think that nothing you do in this world is a small thing. Even following your intuition to take a left turn instead of a right can make a huge difference to somebody’s world. You just never know. Sending all my love to Peter, Maria, and their beautiful little one, Isa.
Angela Loëb is into self-development… learning it, teaching it, and supporting others who do too.
More at http://angelaloeb.com