SARAH’S FOUR WORDS
Hereʼs a true story I wrote
over 20 years ago that climaxed
with four unforgettable words.
One of my first jobs as a
therapist was at a convalescent
hospital many years ago. In one of
the wards I met a deeply beautiful
Larry Wonderling
woman in her early twenties. She
had bright blue eyes, baby smooth complexion, rosy
red lips, cheeks that dimpled when she smiled, and
shoulder length brown hair that framed her pretty face.
Her twisted, gnarled tiny body was like some fleshy
pretzel, with legs bent around her torso and arms
crossed and intertwined with her legs. Her body move-
ments were mainly twitches and jerks, and her voice
was a barely audible whisper.
As I noticed her for the first time, her unblink-
ing eyes seemed to plead with me to stay. So I sat by
her little crib and introduced myself, before I began to
even slightly grasp the severity of her condition. Her
eyes reminded me of a little puppy whose wide-eyed
innocence holds you in its intense stare of affection
and curiosity. As I sat almost transfixed by her star-
ing, she seemed to be trying to speak. I leaned over her
crib as she said something in sighs and whispers that I
couldnʼt understand. Her eyes followed me closely as
I left her side; and later that same day I learned from
records about her abandonment by parents and her pro-
gressively severe Cerebral Palsy.
I was determined to understand her failing
speech, and every weekday I listened carefully to her
breathy efforts to tell me something. After a month, her
dimpled smile and wide-eyed stare assured me that she
enjoyed my company, even though I still didnʼt know
what she was trying to say.
During our second month, her whispers seemed
like distant words that I couldnʼt reach, yet she kept
holding me with her eyes that replied so emphatically
to whatever I had to say. She could show laughter, sad-
ness, excitement, even gratitude with her eyes. At least
once a week, Iʼd take her for a spin around the wards
in a small buggy, and her eyes would tell me that she
loved every minute of it.
It happened during the fourth month of my many
visits. After an understandably weak smile at one of
my corny jokes, she began her slow, painstaking whis-
per, and as I had done so many times before, I leaned
into her crib, put my ear to her mouth and listened. Her
barely audible words shrieked in my ear, “I want to
die!” Together we cried, long and hard.
Mercifully, she died in her sleep about a year
later. Thereʼs no happy ending to this story, just my
heart-breaking memories to share with you.
– Larry Wonderling, Ph.D.
Email: [email protected]
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