“They’re really hurt?” she asked, her gaze never leaving the other kids.
At first, I thought she was asking if the kids were faking their illnesses, but then I realized that she’d never seen people this ill before. Many of the kids couldn’t even get out of bed and had to be pushed along in their gurneys. She wasn’t asking if the kids were faking. She was redefining the word “hurt” in her vocabulary.
“They are,” I said softly. “These kinds of hurt take a long time to heal, but reading to them can help them feel better while they do. Understand?”
This time, when she nodded, it was more resolute. I hoped that meant she really understood, because looking at the group of kids, I could already tell most of them were older than her and probably wouldn’t appreciate her book.
The kids immediately grew excited when they saw me, already calling out the names of stories they wanted to hear.
“All right, you’ll get to choose in a minute,” I assured them. “But first, I’ve brought someone new to read to you today.”
After introducing the kids to Melody, I let her explain the book she was going to read like it was show-and-tell. A few of the younger kids seemed interested in the story of the little rabbit, but most of the kids just looked bored. I hoped Melody didn’t notice as she stared intently at each page, making sure not to mess up any of the words.
Well, it could have been worse. At least the other kids weren’t being mean. Even the older ones, who clearly weren’t interested in the story, remained quiet until Melody finished her reading, and only after she closed the book, did they ask for a different story.
The rest of the session passed like normal. Melody sat in the front row with some of the other kids, listening along to the stories that I read. I’d specifically chosen ones I knew she hadn’t heard before in the hope that it would distract her, just in case today didn’t go well.
By the end, all the kids were once again carted off to return to their rooms. Usually, I timed my readings to happen right beforebedtime, but due to Melody accompanying me, I’d come earlier today. Most of the kids were still awake as nurses or parents took them away, though they were clearly happy after the reading session.
Melody watched them go with a silent, intense gaze.
I knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder. “So, what did you think? Did you have fun reading?”
“They didn’t like my book.”
I withheld my sigh. So, she had noticed.
“That’s not?—”
“Yes it is,” she interrupted. “They didn’t like it.”
She looked so downtrodden even her braids seemed to droop. I would have done anything to cheer her up at that moment, but I couldn’t change the hearts of children or make them like something they didn’t like.
My desperation made me speak before I thought, and a suggestion tumbled from my mouth before I realized what I was doing.
“Don’t worry. We’ve got one more person to visit and I’m sure he’ll appreciate your book.”
What was I doing?
I hadn’t gotten permission to bring Melody into the long-term ward, and I had no idea how she would react to seeing a coma patient, but she was already looking up at me with hope glittering in her eyes, so I couldn’t take it back now.
Heading to the nurses’ station, I was relieved to find Newt on duty. After explaining my situation, and the little nurse quietly laughed at me for a moment, he agreed to accompany us as I brought Melody to see the John Doe patient.
“Why’s he sleeping?” she asked when we reached the familiar room.
“He’s not sleeping,” I tried to explain as I hoisted her up onto a chair so she could better see the man on the bed. “He’s in a coma.”
“What’s a comb-ah?”
“It’s, uh…” I looked over at Newt, hoping he had a better way to explain. I knew the general idea behind a coma, but not the science of it, and I certainly didn’t know how to simplify it for a child.
Luckily, this didn’t seem to be Newt’s first time having to explain medical information to children. He showed Melody the machines hooked up to the John Doe patient and explained how a coma was like a really deep healing sleep, but we needed him to wake up now and reading to him was one way to help get his mind active.
Melody peered closely at the man but very carefully didn’t touch him. “So, he’s asleep because he’s really hurt, and he needs to wake up. And reading will help him?”
“Yep.” Newt flashed him a smile. “And that’s what your father’s been helping with.”
“Okay.” With a resolute nod, she settled into the adult-sized chair, her feet just barely hanging over the edges, and opened her book.