like many others. I usually started at the Cherry Hill hospital, followed by a drive to Dunkin Donuts for my second cup of coffee, ending my day at the Stratford hospital, where I typically ate my free lunch! The first thing that comes to my mind about that day was that it was a beautiful spring morning. All the trees were full of blossoms. I especially remember the white blossoms of the pear trees that lined both sides of the street leading to the hospital. As I got closer to the hospital’s entrance, I inserted my Roman collar into my gray shirt and adjusted it. Deacons in our diocese wore the light gray shirts with a Roman collar to differentiate them from a priest who wore black shirts. However, so many people in the hospital, such as the person mopping the floor or visitors walking through the halls, greeted me with ‘Good morning, Father.’ In the early days, I would correct them by saying something like, ‘No, just a deacon’ or ‘You’re trying to promote me are you?’ But, after a while, I just responded with, ‘Good morning to you as well—Have a blessed day.’
“As I pulled into the hospital entrance, I had to show my ID badge, but the guards all knew me so they usually gave me a pleasant nod, as if to say, ‘Go right ahead.’ There were two parking spaces labeled ‘Clergy,’ but unless both were free, I usually just parked in one of the ‘Employee’ spaces because you never know when a priest or other clergy member needed to see a patient in an emergency situation and I wanted to leave the ‘Clergy’ spaces for them.
“I parked, grabbed my prayer book, my pix, containing some recently consecrated hosts (Eucharist), my Rosary beads, my magic coins and balls, my CPE Prayer, and off I went.”
Rick looked surprised and asked, “Wait, did you say magic coins and balls?”
“Yes, I always carried a few coins and sponge balls for an occasional magic trick when the situation arose. Both adults and children loved it—it often put a smile on their face at a time when they needed it. Normally, I would incorporate a magic trick into a story that was appropriate to their situation, tapping into Holy Scripture when I could. Many patients in a hospital are suffering from much more than the symptoms that the doctors are treating them for. So many of them have issues with their families, their jobs, their finances, so many things, and especially loneliness. So, naturally I try and comfort them in various ways, such as sharing stories, praying when appropriate, providing them with the Eucharist in some circumstances, and even magic!”
“For example, look at these two sponge balls.” I placed two red sponge balls on the table in front of Rick. “Let’s say one represents you and the other represents Jesus. You see, there is a relationship between you and Jesus—a friendship—a friendship that goes beyond a physical presence. When I separate the two, it appears that the relationship doesn’t exist anymore.” At this point, I placed one ball in Rick’s hand and asked him to squeeze it tight. The other I placed in my pocket. “You see, even though you might feel alone at times, especially while in the hospital, Jesus is always with you. He is always with you because he knows you. We hear God telling us, from Isaiah, a prophet from the Old Testament, ‘See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.’” Poor Rick is sitting there clenching the sponge ball in his hand wondering where I am going with this. “Now, open your hand.”
As Rick slowly opened his hand expecting to see the one sponge ball, he saw that he had two. He looked up at me with a surprised face and said, “No way!”
I smiled at Rick and said, “Yes, way! Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. This is just my way of showing patients that, despite their loneliness, Jesus is always with them. Naturally, it takes more than a magic trick to do this, but often, I found that the magic trick made them relax, and often it opened the door to many other aspects of their lives that they began to talk about. As I talked with them, it made it easier for me to construct a prayer that focused on their particular situation and it meant much more to them then one of the standard prayers in my prayer book.”
Rick looked up and said, “Show me more magic!”
I smiled, “I thought you wanted to hear about the day at the hospital when the fire happened.”
Rick nodded, “I do, but I definitely want to see more of that magic later.”
I assured him I would show him more magic tricks and then continued with my story of that day. “As I walked from my car to the hospital entrance, I reached for my prayer card labeled, ‘My CPE Transition Prayer’ and began to read it”.
Rick stopped me, “CPE Transition Prayer? What is that for?”
“Well, remember, I was an engineer for forty years, designing and writing software for a combat system. I had to go through a transition so I could be in the right mindset to listen to and help patients. So, this transition prayer helped me become open to the Holy Spirit. This was something that I learned from Sister Arlene, at St. Mary’s Medical Center. So, I made up this prayer.”
I reached for the card and gave it to Rick.
Rick read the prayer and then looked up at me, “You wrote this?”
“Yes, you like it? You can keep it. I created a bunch of them. I gave them to my brother deacons who were involved in hospital ministry.”
Rick smiled, “Yes, I like it. Did it work?”
“Well, just like any prayer, if it comes from your heart, yes, it works. As you can see from those words, my intent was to be in a state that conveyed to the patient that I am concerned for him or her. It wasn’t about coming in, saying a few prayers, offering them the Eucharist, and then being on my way. In fact, I rarely brought up God in many of my encounters with patients. When I walked in, they would obviously know that I was clergy by my collar, however, many times, the collar created an initial barrier to openness.”
“Really? Why do you think that is?”
“Well, some patients felt that I was there to talk strictly about God or Church. Their eyes would give them away—it was as if they were saying, ‘Oh no, a priest or minister.’ So my first challenge was often to get them to relax and open up. I would assure them that I was there, primarily, to check on them and see how they are doing. Once they realized that, we had some great conversations. To get to this point, however, wasn’t always achieved. It’s where all my CPE training, my past experiences, and, yes, maybe even a little magic came into play. The bottom line is that most patients really just need someone to listen to them that isn’t related or connected to their situation.”
“I can see you were trained very well. Let’s get back to the day of the fire.”
“I remember visiting about eight or nine patients that day before I received a call from Nancy, the woman in charge of patient care. Nancy was great—she was good at her job and was genuinely concerned about the patients. Most times when she called or saw me in the hall, she would tell me about a particular patient that I should visit based on her conversation with him or her. She was always pleasant and always greeted me with a smile, but on this particular day, her call was different.
“I saw it was Nancy on my cell phone and answered, ‘Hi Nancy, what’s up?’
“‘Deacon Tom?’
“‘Yes, what’s up?’ I could sense by Nancy’s voice that she was upset.
“‘Are you in the hospital?’
“‘Yes, I’m in Room 354 with Mrs. McFadden. Just finishing a great visit and was about to give her Communion.’
“‘I need you to go to the emergency room! There’s been a house fire. The parents survived, but their daughter didn’t make it. The mother is so distraught, they sedated her. She and her husband are in the emergency room in ER-7. Can you go and be with her? The husband called their parish and the priest can’t make it here for another hour.’
“I felt as if all the blood was drained from my face. I am sure if there was a video of my face at that moment, it would have shown a transition from a warm and jovial look, having talked and joked with Mrs. McFadden, to