On Wednesday night, I found an elderly neighbor lying on the concrete at the foot of the steps leading to his unit.
At first, I thought he’d just fallen and spent the entire 2 second walk over to where he was wondering what I needed to do. Should I move him? I asked myself silently. Probably not, I thought. Should I call 911? I wondered.
But when I got closer and saw that he had hit his head and was bleeding profusely, I knew the answer: keep him calm and call 911.
And later, when I got to choir rehearsal for our Good Friday service and Easter songs, it was the lyrics about blood that I couldn’t get past. Because every time we sang them, my mind flashed back to my neighbor lying on the concrete, a small pool of blood forming under his head.
His blood, bright on my…
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