To Heal the Lame
It was the end of the school day. I was on the east side of the building watching the students head to the buses. Within the herd I noticed two students running in the opposite direction and around the back of the building. I was curious.
When I reached the corner of the school I saw a huddle of people on the opposite side of the property and next to the playground swings. As I approached I recognized one of the grade 4 teachers, a substitute teacher and a number of students. Another student was lying the ground. I moved from being curious to concerned.
I arrived at the scene and was informed that Melanie had fallen off the swings. She had been sitting on one swing with her feet extended out to the next swing, this placed her in a sideways position. Her friends had been pushing her when she fell out of the first swing and landed on her hip. It is worth mentioning that she was a big girl for her age and would have hit the ground with a good thump. She was crying and was apparently in a lot of pain.
The substitute teacher lived in our community and was very active with the volunteer ambulance service. She was concerned that the girl had broken her hip. She said that we needed to call the ambulance, stabilize the child’s leg and have her transported to the hospital. I thought, it can’t be that serious – it’s not like the child fell off a ladder. I also knew that this particular student was somewhat theatrical and, at times, needy for attention.
I turned to the child’s teacher, “Do you remember when we were growing up, on Friday night we had Academy Performance on T.V.?”
“I do remember that”, he said.
“What do you think?”
“I think you are right.”
He knew the child better than I did. In a somewhat cryptic communication he had just agreed with me that this particular circumstance was probably more of a performance than a reality.
Just as the substitute teacher was directing the students to return to the school to call the ambulance I made an executive decision.
“Hold on. Let’s not call 911 yet.
“Melanie, I want you to rise up”, I said while raising my arms above my head.
The supply teacher was shocked and started to express her serious concern. I held up my hand and said, “Trust me. I feel right about this and will take responsibility for the situation.”
As the tears continued to pour down, and with the assistance of her teacher, Melanie slowly arose. I gave one of her friends her book-bag. Motioning with both arms I said, “Now Melanie, walk to the bus. You can do it.”
Melanie limped to the bus with her friends. I called her home, explained what happened and asked her mother to meet her at the bus stop.
As I sat back I wondered how Jesus felt when he cured the lame.
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