This is another story I recieved through email.It will touch you.Please take the time to read it and pay attention to it.Get a tissue.
THROUGH HIS EYES
The day is over, you are driving home. You tune in your radio. You
hear
a little blurb about a little village in India where some villagers
have
died suddenly, strangely, of a flu that has never been seen before.
It's
not influenza, but three or four fellows are dead, and it's kind of
interesting, and they're sending some doctors over there to
investigate
it. You don't think much about it,>but on Sunday, coming home from
church, you hear another radio spot. Only they say it's not three
villagers, it's 30,000 villagers in the back hills of this particular
area of India, and it's on TV that night. CNN runs a little blurb;
people are heading there from the disease center in Atlanta because
this
disease strain has never been seen before. By Monday morning when you
get up, it's the lead story. For it's not just India; it's Pakistan,
Afghanistan, Iran, and before you know it, you're hearing this story
everywhere and they have coined it now as the "mystery flu". The
President has made some comment that he and everyone are praying and
hoping that all will go well over there. But everyone is wondering,
How
are we going to contain it? That's when the President of France makes
an
announcement that shocks Europe. He is closing their borders. No
flights from India, Pakistan, or any of the countries where this thing
has been seen. And that's why that night you are watching a little
bit
of CNN before going to bed. Your jaw hits your chest when a weeping
woman is translated from a French news program into English: There's
a
man lying in a hospital in Paris dying of the mystery flue. It has
come
to Europe. Panic strikes. As best they can tell, once you get it,
you
have it for a week and you don't know it. Then you have four days of
unbelievable symptoms. And then you die. Britain closes it's
borders,
but it's too late. South Hampton, Liverpool, North Hampton, and it's
Tuesday morning when the President of the United States makes the
following announcement: "Due to a national security risk, all flights
to
and from Europe and Asia have been cancelled. If your loved ones are
overseas, I'm sorry. They cannot come back until we find a cure for
this
thing." Within four days our nation has been plunged into an
unbelievable fear. People are selling little masks for your face.
People are talking about "What if it comes to this country," and
preachers on Tuesday are saying, "It's the scourge of God." It's
Wednesday night and you are at a church prayer meeting when somebody
runs
in from the parking lot and says, turn on a radio, turn on a radio.
And
while the church listens to a little transistor radio with a
microphone
stuck to it, the announcement is made. Two women are lying in a Long
Island hospital dying from the mystery flu. Within hours it seems,
this
thing just sweeps across the country. People are working around the
clock trying to find an antidote. Nothing is working. California.
Oregon. Arizona. Florida. Massachusetts. It's as thought it's just
sweeping in from the borders. And then, all of a sudden the news
comes
out. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can
be
made. It's going to take the blood of somebody who hasn't been
infected,
and so, sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all those
channels
of emergency broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple thing:
Go
to your downtown hospital and have your blood type taken. That's all
we
ask of you. And when you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood,
please make your way quickly, quietly, and safely to the hospitals.
Sure
enough, when you and your family get down there late on that Friday
night, there is a long line, and they've got nurses and doctors coming
out and pricking fingers and taking blood and putting labels on it.
Your
wife and your kids are out there, and they take your blood type and
they
say, "Wait here in the parking lot and if we call your name, you can
be
dismissed and go home." You stand around scared with your neighbors,
wondering what in the world. Suddenly a young man comes running out
of
the hospital screaming. He's yelling a name and waving a clipboard.
What? He yells it again! And your son tugs on your jacket and says,
"Daddy, that's me." Before you know it, they have grabbed your boy.
Wait a minute, hold it! And they say, "It's okay, his blood is clean.
His blood is pure. We want to make sure he doesn't have the disease.
We
think he has got the right type." Five tense minutes later, out come
the
doctors and nurses, crying and hugging one another some are even
laughing. It's the first time you have seen anybody laugh in a week,
and
an old doctor walks up to you and says, Thank you sire. Your son's
blood
type is perfect. It's clean, it is pure, and we can make the
vaccine."
As the word begins to spread all across the parking lot full of folks,
people are screaming and praying and laughing and crying. But then
the
gray-haired doctor pulls you and your wife aside and says, "May we see
you for a moment?
We didn't realize that the donor would be a minor and we need . . . we
need you to sign a consent form." You begin to sign and then you see
that the number of pints of blood to be taken is empty. "H-h-h-how
many
pints?" And that is when the old doctor's smile fades and he says,
"We
had no idea it would be a little child. We weren't prepared. We need
it
all! But . . . You don't understand. We are talking about the whole
world here. Please sign. We - we need it all - we need it all!!"
"But
can't you give him a transfusion?"
"If we had clean blood we would. Can you sign? Would you sign?" In
numb silence you do. Then they say, "Would you like to have a moment
with him before we begin?" Can you walk back to that room where he
sits
on a table saying, "Daddy? Mommy? What's going on?" Can you take his
hands and say, "Son, your mommy and I love you, and we would never
ever
let anything happen to you that didn't just have to be. Do you
understand that!" And when that old doctor comes back in and says,
"I'm
sorry, we've - we've got to get started. People all over the world
are
dying." Can you leave? Can you walk out while he is saying, "Dad?
Mom?
Dad? Why - why have you forsaken me?" And then next week , when they
have the ceremony to honor your son, and some folks sleep through it,
and
some folks don't even come because they go to the lake, and some folks
come with a pretentious smile and just pretend to care. Would you
want
to jump up and say, 'MY SON DIED! DON'T YOU CARE?" Is that what He
wants to say? "MY SON DIED. DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I CARE?"
"Father,
seeing it from your eyes breaks our hearts.
Maybe now we can begin to comprehend the great love you have for us."
You can now spread the gospel.
Everything happens for a reason
Live everyday like it's your last!