Ninety-nine year old Dick loves popcorn. He sat in his electric scooter, mesmerized as he watched the popcorn machine explode with freshly popped kernels.
“If you hadn’t told me what this was, and if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it,” he declared. “Things sure have changed.” He was so amazed at the machine that he made that same statement three times.
In my job with seniors, I look for opportunities to bless my residents. Sometimes it’s simply a greeting by name, a smile, or a hug. If possible though, I like tangible blessings. When I discovered that Dick was a lover of popcorn, I realized I was missing a perfect opportunity to bless him. Every Wednesday afternoon at 1:45, I walk upstairs to our television room and crank up the popcorn machine. When the machine heats up, I squeeze the large tube of oil/butter (ew) which is either a solid blob or a liquid-y slippery mess, depending on the season. One hot summer day, when I poured out the kernels, an already popped kernel fell out. After the kernels are tossed in, I close the door. My boss informed me that one time she forgot to close the door and had popcorn flying everywhere. I make sure never to forget that.
One afternoon I decided to take a bag of that piping hot popcorn to Dick. I walked to the end of the hallway and knocked on his door. When I walked in and handed him the bag, he broke into a huge smile. He was ever so thankful and told me so about eight times. Since then, I make sure to save an extra big bag for him.
When I returned to work after vacation in April, I was working at the computer, with my back to the door. I heard a small voice, and I turned around, and Dick was in the doorway.
“You abandoned me.”
He was just teasing, but apparently my boss had forgotten to pop the popcorn while I was away, and Dick came looking for me. I was nowhere to be found. Good to know I was missed. I think I brought him an extra helping that week to make up for it.
So, every week, without fail, I have delivered popcorn to Dick. Some weeks his memory slips, and he’s surprised when I come knocking on his door. Other weeks, he’s following me around, asking what time I’ll be making it. When he’s feeling up to it, he makes the trip up on the elevator and watches the popcorn pop. He tells me seeing me is an added bonus (he’s a bit of a flirt… don’t tell Drew, but I don’t mind too much), and once he informed me that if I ever ran for office, he’d vote for me. He even gave me an Easter lily to thank me. (I gave it to the gardening committee, where it’s now planted in the garden outside our building. I figured I’d probably kill it.)
It’s amazing to me that a simple bag of popcorn will make a man’s week. It doesn’t take much to be a blessing. I hope that I can deliver many more bags. That smile makes it all worthwhile.
