Mr. Zuckerman's hired hand, Lurvy, isn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but he's a hard worker. Granted, the humans in Charlotte's Web don't come off as very intelligent. The Zuckermans and Arables all buy into the spider's little ruse. Fern is the smartest of the two-legged characters in the book, and she's only eight-years-old. Yet, there's a certain dignity in all the simple farm folk of White's tale. They're, as the old saying goes, the salt of the earth. Honest, no-nonsense people who labor from sun-up to sundown.
At the medical office where I work, I'm surrounded by hard workers. It's a group of people who've been together for close to 14 or 15 years. We know each other, care about each other. We're a dysfunctional family. We get on each other's nerves, bicker, hold grudges. In the end, though, there's a great deal of love in the place, whether we admit it or not.
Currently, the huge healthcare system that owns our facility is making monumental changes. Cutting hours. Forcing people to look for new jobs. Eliminating bonuses. Deleting entire departments. Everyone with whom I work is looking for extra income. As you know, I, myself, have to post to a another position somewhere else in the hospital. I have not been around a more discouraged collection of individuals in my life.
Even though Lurvy has extra work piled on top of his normal farm chores, he never really complains. He accepts it with grace. Enthusiasm even. I am not Lurvy. Neither are my coworkers. We all used to be Lurvy.
That's what my prayer intention for this week is: my coworkers. I'm asking you to pray for them. They're all decent people, and they need some hope. They're my extended family, and they've seen me through some pretty difficult times. Now, we're all in a lifeboat, and it's taking on water.
So, fold your hands for my coworkers this week. Say something kind to God for them.
Saint Marty has to get some clean straw for Wilbur now. He's some pig.
|Bless my friends. Amen.|