Yesterday we spent several hours at the hospital getting a certain little boy's leg stitched. The injury was a piece of genius as it was done on the school playground and involved the simple components of a leg and a ladder which laid the latter wide open. It was boring - every ambulance in Fairfax County seemed to be busy and we watched as stretcher after stretcher came in with folks who needed more urgent care than we did.
I had the wrong bag with me, of course. A football card and a piece of wood were the best I could do for entertainment - the broken crayons were rejected. When Dad arrived the M&Ms from the hospital shop restored good humor and I left them to man time in the ER hallway.
I always find this last week before Holy Week a bit of a wait - it feels very long. Perhaps that is the way it should be, after all it is the biggest week of the Christian year.
But I suppose my caution always is that Holy Week is not a magic pill - it is part of our ongoing journey. Joy and sorrow mingle and continue beyond Easter day. We know this is life.
My little man will be OK - he is limping a bit and has several stitches - sometimes cures take a while to work. Sometimes miracles use our humanity.
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