To the world.
Most days I hope for some kind of rescue. Most days I look in the wrong places!
Last week I was getting across car parks and shops with the help of a trolley. As my legs began to give up, I did what I’ve always tutted at: I left my trolley on the pavement beside the car. Well, I thought I had. As I walked away I turned to watch said trolley roll down the slight slope and over the pavement edge, stopping when it fell onto its side. I tried to lift it up but it was too heavy. I looked round and no-one was close enough to ask for help. People are even more reluctant these covid days anyway. I got it the right way up and into the trolley bay eventually, wishing that someone had been there to help.
I read a tweet recently where a fellow MS sufferer said she was close to giving up. How many people feel like that, especially at the moment? How many are sending out an SOS?
Sometimes we have to be the rescuers. As often as we can. Sometimes we forget that we have the strength and the means to help, just like I was able to lift that trolley.
If you need help, you might have to shout a little louder and look a little harder. It may well be someone or something you had never thought of before. It is nearly always the unexpected people and things that show up to help. I’m thinking back and remembering a Goth with chocolate cake, the strong hands of a Kerry boatman, the kiss from a nervous rescue dog…
But, if you glance up at my photo today you will see evidence that someone (my parents) heard and literally shifted the earth to help me. Before that gentle slope were steep steps I became too frightened to go down. The gravel path has brought the beach close to me again.
Sometimes you don’t even need to send an SOS.
Sometimes the rescue is nearer than you think.