In the last ten days, our small town has been caught in a real-life drama. One of our high school students was in a serious car accident. It happened shortly after school; she was on her way home and at a country intersection an elderly man T-boned her. He was having a stroke.
Smantha, Sami, is clinging to life. Her brain swelled to the point of surgery to remove part of her skull. And our little town held its breath, praying she would make it through the night. That was nine days ago.
She has undergone extensive surgery to repair the many fractures to her arm; she has undergone more while the doctors have repaired the multiple breaks in her jaw. The swelling in her brain became such a concern the doctors wanted to remove part of it. As a parent, I hope to never have to make such a decision. I do know Sami's family has found a strong faith in fighting this nightmare and after much anguish chose to wait on such a drastic measure.
At the same time, our library has a poetry contest each spring. We are celebrating its tenth anniversary. Our local school teachers have been intrumental in promoting our small program and this year we have dozens of entries from third grade through high school. The deadline was yesterday and it was enjoyable seeing and talking to the students and parents who brought in entries. A few teachers brought in their whole class's entries.
I read through a few high school poems and it hit me how strong words can be. It reminded me of a saying I have on my desk by Theodore Sturgeon: "It doesn't matter what you write. What you believe will show through."
Many of these students poured out their anguish and hopes for our Sami. The words are not all that polished, some don't have a good cadence, but the heart of the words are so big and deep, their cry brought tears to my eyes and I prayed for Sami to recover and join us again.
As a writer I realize words have power; our quaint little town may have all the attributes of Mayberry RFD, but boy, have our words for Sami's recovery have power. Our words, poems and prayers have reached heaven. Our wishes for Sami to recover have taken on a persona to hold her and her family up.
Sami is still in a coma; she is fighting everyday to come back to us. She has movement and stirs at familar voices. We are all praying for a miracle. If you are so inclined, I invite you to list up your words to make Sami whole again.
Til next time ~