One of the things we got involved in was helping a boy in our Cardiff Ward when he was transferred home. When he was an 8 year old Cub Scout, David was riding his bike down a hill when he was hit by a car. In the hospital, they hadn't kept the brain swelling down and so there was severe brain damage. He was now in a hospital bed at home, still unconscious all these years later. We volunteered to help "pattern" him as a family. The hope was that deliberate movement, much like learning to crawl as an infant, would trigger some sparks in his brain and retrain him, so to speak.
So one day a week Dad would come home and take us all to his house after school. One of you would grab an arm, one a leg, others the other arm and leg, and one his head. The littlest kids would stay in the front room, while we moved David's body in rhythm to the Primary songs we would sing. It seemed like a sacred errand. However, it was definitely shocking to see David in that condition the first time, and you passed out. What a trooper, tho, from then on you pitched in no matter how difficult it had been initially. Wish we could say it helped change things for David, but found out after we moved from Encinitas that he had died. Perhaps he wasn't the one who needed change, maybe it was that the rest of us gained a little more compassion from serving. Life is such a mystery, no?
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