Last night I gave blood. I may have saved a life! There are many emotional pictures on the wall alluding to the fact that my blood donation could save someone, a little child, a desperate mother, a gruff man in his middle forties who beats his wife, all were thanking me for the precious gift I gave.
I could hear the thankful voices resonate in my head. The wife-beater was saying “why did you take that blood donation before me? I almost died without it! Good thing another donor came along, you ungrateful wench!” *smack*
The wife was thinking, “why did I accept the blood donation? Life would have been much happier. I’d be free from the pain. I probably deserve it, though. I must. It’s all my fault. Oh, how he loves me to punish me for my sins!”
The little girl took it all in, thinking “some day I want to be just like mommy.”
Oh, the hope we have given in our 1.5 hours and 1 pint of sacrifice!
From nowhere near where I intended to end up, I bid you adieu,