Two things jogged my memory this week about events over thirty years ago:  we sent a Christmas letter to our friend Bonnie, and I got a haircut, complete with wash and rinse.

During the time I was in the hospital with Guillian Barré Syndrome, our friend Bonnie moved in to our house to be with Diane and help watch Linnea.  Angels do great service things.  Bonnie allowed Diane to come visit me since Linnea was too young to bring into the neurology ward or the ICU where I was housed.  Bonnie even taught Linnea all the cool faces.  “Show me SAD,” Bonnie would say, and a horrific frown would appear on the little girl’s face.  Happy, afraid, sleepy, and angry were all good but the best one was our two year old clasping her forehead with her hand, shaking her head slowly from side to side, and emitting a loud sigh, “Ooohhhh.”  That is Angst.

Sometimes you don’t know the angel.  Some nameless nurse was having a slow shift late at night when I had been in the ICU for several days.  She decided I needed to have my hair washed.  (Being paralyzed and on a respirator, I was unable to do this for myself, or even ask for it.)  She set it up perfectly.  She scooched me to the end of the bed so that the top of my head was hanging over just a bit; she filled a couple of pitchers with warm water and poured them over my scalp. I have always wondered how she kept the water from going all over the floor; I couldn’t see that part of the operation

 I do agree with David when he says in Psalm 133 “it is good and pleasant when brothers dwell in unity,” but I do not understand the next part very well: “It is like the precious oil on the head running down on the beard.”  Unless maybe if the oil was nicely warm and there was a head massage involved.  Because that night’s shampooing was one of the sweetest things an angel could have done.  Warm water, shampoo massage, cleaning the beard, and a warm rinse.  She did not even have to do the last part of “Lather,  rinse, repeat.”  It was so good to have my hair clean; I did not realize how grimy-dirty it had become.  Then she read aloud the book of Daniel until I fell asleep.  Good times.

I asked the next night who that nurse was and they told me the prior night was her last; she was moving to Denver.  So I didn’t get to say a super thank you, but I suspect Colorado has been blessed.