Subject: Room with a View
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was
allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the
fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window.
The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked
for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their
jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on
vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit
up, he would pass the time by describing to his room-mate all the things he
could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for
those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by
all the activity and color of the world outside.
The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on
the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in
arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the
landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.
As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on
the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque
scene. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing
by.
Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it in his mind's
eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Then
unexpectedly, a sinister thought entered his mind. Why should the other man
alone experience all the pleasures of seeing everything while he himself never
got to see anything? It didn't seem fair.
At first thought the man felt ashamed. But as the days passed and he missed
seeing more sights, his envy eroded into resentment and soon turned him sour.
He began to brood and he found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that
window - that thought, and only that thought now controlled his life. Late one
night as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the window began to cough.
He was choking on the fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly
lit room as the struggling man by the window groped for the button to call
for help.
Listening from across the room he never moved, never pushed his own button
which would have brought the nurse running in. In less than five minutes the
coughing and choking stopped, along with that the sound of breathing. Now
there was only silence--deathly silence. The following morning the day nurse
arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of
the man by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendants
to take it away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he
could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the
switch,and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly,
painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at
the world outside.
Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained to
slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.
The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased
room mate to describe such wonderful things outside this window. The
nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.
She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."
Epilogue . . . . . . . . .
You can interpret the story in any way you like. But one moral stands out:
There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our
own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared,
is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all of the things you have
that
money can't buy.