Those Merciful People

When I was sixteen, I worked as a nurse’s aide in a nursing home and made an awful mistake. I got a dead woman up for lunch. Obviously, I didn’t know she was dead.

I’ve told this story a number of times in various ways, and each time I recall it, I gain a new insight.

First of all, the story shows my grit. As a fairly new employee, I wanted my boss to be pleased with me. My supervisor, Nurse Nancy, had been called away to a meeting and I was on my own. The 3-11 shift was responsible for getting patients up from their naps, getting them dressed and taking them to the dining room for dinner. 

In my training, I’d been instructed on how to move ambulatory, non-ambulatory and those who were recovering from broken hips from their beds to their wheelchairs. I knew how to be kind and cordial even when sometimes some people could be a little snarky when it came time for them to get up from their naps.

Consequently, when P. did not blink an eye when I opened the curtains to let the sunshine in, respond to my cheery conversation with her or lack of cooperation with me when I moved her from her bed to the wheelchair, I wasn’t surprised. I knew I had a job to do and I would do my job regardless of what I thought to be stubbornness. 

It wasn’t until I was wheeling her down to the dining room that my boss, coming back from her meeting, stopped me dead in my tracks. P. was dead. She’d died in that interlude between the 7-3 and 3-11 shift. 

I was horrified. How could I be so stupid? But my boss did not reprimand me, nor did she fire me. 

Relating this story to a friend, my friend pointed out to me, “Your boss must have known that you were doing the best you could.” 

Those words from my friend, who I know to be merciful, pointed out to me that my boss must have been a merciful person.  

I’m not known as a merciful person, but I know a merciful person when I meet one. I’d just not recognized that my boss was being merciful to me. But now I do.

A person who extends mercy to others is one who does not add to how someone already feels; condemned, stupid, or embarrassed. Merciful people do not roll their eyes at you. Instead, they want to help save face. Somehow, those merciful people’s emotional intelligence exceeds everyone else’s by leaps and bounds and they know just how people feel. Consequently, they don’t want to add to that feeling, they want to instead, help you to subtract yourself from that feeling.  

After that incident, my boss showed me how to check for a pulse and never once ever mentioned my stupid mistake.

Why Bother?

Why bother being grateful for merciful people? Tell me, who among us doesn’t need mercy?

P. S.  I wrote the story of my journey to forgiveness for those who, like me, know they need to change, but are not quite sure where to start. You can find A Heart’s Journey To Forgiveness at Redemption Press and Amazon.