Downwind From Flowers, a healing story

[Guest guest]

The story below was posted to another . It is said

this story has circulated around the web so it is probably not

copyrighted.

 

I found it has many lessons in it so I am posting it here.

Mary

 

Downwind From Flowers

 

(a true story, as told by Lee Paton)

Several years ago in Seattle, Washington, there lived a

52-year-old Tibetan refugee. " Tenzin, " as I will call him, who

was diagnosed with one of the more curable forms of lymphoma. He

was admitted to the hospital and received his first dose of

chemotherapy. But during the treatment, this usually gentle man

became extremely angry and upset. He pulled the IV out of his arm

and refused to cooperate. He shouted at the nurses and became

argumentative with everyone who came near him. The doctors and

nurses were baffled.

Then Tenzin's wife spoke to the hospital staff. She told them

Tenzin had been held as a political prisoner by the Chinese for

17 years. They killed his first wife and repeatedly tortured and

brutalized him throughout his imprisonment. She told them that

the hospital rules and regulations, coupled with the chemotherapy

treatments, gave Tenzin horrible flashbacks of what had suffered

at the hands of the Chinese. " I know you mean to help him, " she

said, " but he feels tortured by your treatments. They are causing

him to feel hatred inside - just like he felt toward the Chinese.

He would rather die than have to live with the hatred he is now

feeling. And, according to our belief, it is very bad to have

hatred in your heart at the time of death. He needs to be able to

pray and cleanse his heart. "

So the doctors discharged Tenzin and asked the hospice team to

visit him in his home. I was the hospice nurse assigned to his

care. I called a local representative from " Amnesty

International " for advice. He told me that the only way to heal

the damage from torture is to " talk it through. "

" This person has lost his trust in humanity and feels hope is

impossible, " the man said. " If you are to help him, you must find

a way to give him hope. " But when I encouraged Tenzin to talk

about his experiences, he held up his hand and stopped me. He

said, " I must learn to love again if I am to heal my soul. Your

job is not to ask me questions. Your job is to teach me to love

again. "

I took a deep breath. I asked him, " So, how can I help you love

again? " Tenzin immediately replied, " Sit down, drink my tea and

eat my cookies. " Tibetan tea is strong black tea laced with yak

butter and salt. It isn't easy to drink! But that is what I did.

For several weeks, Tenzin, his wife, and I sat together, drinking

tea. We also worked with his doctors to find ways to treat his

physical pain. But it was his spiritual pain that seemed to be

lessening. Each time I arrived, Tenzin was sitting cross-legged

on his bed, reciting prayers from his books. As time went on, he

and his wife hung more and more colorful " thankas, " Tibetan

Buddhist banners, on the walls. The room was fast becoming a

beautiful, religious shrine.

When the spring came, I asked Tenzin what Tibetans do when they

are ill in the spring. He smiled brightly and said, " We sit

downwind from flowers. " I thought he must be speaking poetically.

But Tenzin's words were quite literal. He told me Tibetans sit

downwind so they can be dusted with the new blossoms' pollen that

floats on the spring breeze. They feel this new pollen is strong

medicine. At first, finding enough blossoms seemed a bit

daunting. Then, one of my friends suggested that Tenzin visit

some of the local flower nurseries. I called the manager of one

of the nurseries and explained the situation. The manager's

initial response was: " You want to do what? " But when I explained

the request, the manager agreed.

So, the next weekend, I picked up Tenzin and his wife with their

provisions for the afternoon: black tea, butter, salt, cups,

cookies, prayer beads and prayer books. I dropped them off at the

nursery and assured them I would return at 5:00. The following

weekend, Tenzin and his wife visited another nursery. The third

weekend, they went to yet another nursery. The fourth week, I

began to get calls from the nurseries inviting Tenzin and his

wife to come again. One of the managers said, " We've got a new

shipment of nicotiana coming in and some wonderful fuchsias and

oh, yes! Some great daphne. I know they would love the scent of

that daphne! And I almost forgot! We have some new lawn furniture

that Tenzin and his wife might enjoy. "

Later that day, I got a call from the second nursery saying that

they had colorful wind socks that would help Tenzin predict where

the wind was blowing. Pretty soon, the nurseries were competing

for Tenzin's visits. People began to know and care about the

Tibetan couple.

The nursery employees started setting out the lawn furniture in

the direction of the wind. Others would bring out fresh hot water

for their tea. Some of the regular customers would leave their

wagons of flowers near the two of them. At the end of the summer,

Tenzin returned to his doctor for another CT scan to determine

the extent of the spread of the cancer. But the doctor could find

no evidence of cancer at all. He was dumbfounded. He told Tenzin

that he just couldn't explain it.

Tenzin lifted his finger and said, " I know why the cancer has

gone away. It could no longer live in a body that is filled with

love. When I began to feel all the compassion from the hospice

people, from the nursery employees, and all those people who

wanted to know about me, I started to change inside. Now, I feel

fortunate to have had the opportunity to heal in this way.

Doctor, please don't think that your medicine is the only cure.

Sometimes compassion can cure cancer, as well. "