Lions

Marguerite called last night to tell me how sad she was about my dad's death. She is from "the islands," a strong Christian woman who was a companion for my dad. She knew him before the tracheotomy, and their bond became very strong. He would joke with her, greet her with happiness, and would do pretty much anything she asked. He had a special relationship with all three of them-Marguerite, Gerta and Tshera. They were lions for him when he was helpless and needed protection. Sadly, it was often from the hospital staff.

From what Marguerite said, she grew to love him.

On the phone last night, she praised our family, saying how nice and unprejudiced we were-welcoming people as they are. I told her about my grandma and how she took us young 'uns on civil rights marches. But my first reaction was: what the heck do we have to be prejudiced about? It makes me sad that she and the other women who were so remarkably faithful have had to deal with racial bias from people who employ them.

And you think we are evolving, Professor Dawkins and Mr. Hitchens? I think we are often the same bigoted tribesmen and women we were when we were arguing over who got the steer carcass 10,000 years ago.

Thank you, dear Lord Jesus, for bringing these wonderful women into my dad's life-to surround him with wonderful care and with their prayers. Thank you for sending them to my sister when she needed lions. Thank you for letting me know them-and learn from them.

Marguerite said she's not ready to go back to work yet.