Missing out on the Unexpected I hate going there myself, worse, I abhor taking someone else. But that’s exactly what I had to do on the night of June 3rd, 2012. My 9 year old daughter Cindy, “accidently” cut her arm with a dull knife, again. Yep, another trip back to our local ER. Words were few on the trip into town. The cuts were not serious, but they required more than just a band aid from our first aid kit in the bathroom closet. Going in I knew that it would be a long evening, as this was not our first trip to the ER due to “self- loathing.” So we trudged the long hall up to the nurse’s station to sign in… then have a seat in the waiting room in front of the TV. The nurse brought Cindy a cold compress to hold on the cuts, but I knew by the time she was seen by the dr. the compress would be room temperature. We anchored fast, with me doing my usual scan about the room. I felt a little out of place. I think Cindy and me were the only ones not wearing pj’s. It seemed to be the usual crowd… people with the sniffles, hangovers and hang-nails; those who suck the monetary life out of Obama Care. Then it started. Unruly loud giggles and laughing, coming from the far side… the far side of the waiting room… Just my luck! A little girl with 3 older sisters, that’s how many it took to harness her raw energy. Great, I wanted to sulk in dreary peace and quiet. Cindy had fallen asleep, unaware of what was about to take place. The little girl skipped and sashayed up to one, then another, until she had seen everyone who was ailing. “What’s your name”, she’d inquire, twirling her locks with her index finger. “My name is Dara. I’m six years old… What’s wrong with your arm, where don’t you feel good? How old are you?” Then she would wiggle her way up onto that person’s lap, put her arm around them and ask, “Would you like a bite of my candy bar?” At first the people seemed agitated beyond words, but after she brought them drinks and giggles they warmed up to her. “Annoying little girl, stay away from me…I don’t want to see or hear your loud gibberish”. This is what I almost thought out loud. “Leave us alone!” So I pretended to be nodding off. But in the distance recesses of my mind I couldn’t escape the singing and laughter as it echoed… pounding on my ear drums. Then it happened, that little darling was pulling on my sleeve. “Mister, mister, wake up!” Ok, it’s my turn. Yippee! “ Yeah, what is it?” “Mister would you like a bite of my candy bar?” Half put-out, I said, “Nooo- thanks,” in an unruly tone… or did I hear her say, “Doug, please wrest your healing from the palm of my hand...” Totally confused, I slapped myself, and as I looked about the room… Patients were getting up and leaving, at least the ones who let that little girl near them. The nurse said, “Where do you people think you’re off to? You can’t leave!” “That little girl, the one you tried to silence, freed us from our cares and worries,” said one. She befriended us… she made us laugh. She didn’t mind that we wore pj’s here, or that maybe we smelled -she just cared.” (The first shall be last – and the last first.)