Matthew 26:17-35
Melody Masha Pierson was a normal mother going about her life. But she was born with bad asthma. Since childhood, she had been in oxygen tents for the winter. As the years went by, it developed into emphysema. Then at the rather early age of 48, doctors told her she needed a double lung transplant to keep on living. She was put on the transplant list and waited while tethered to constant oxygen supply.
Slowly but surely, her name began to progress up the transplant list. She didn’t know how much longer she could go on. But finally the call came. On the way to the hospital in an ambulance with her daughter, she cried; not tears of fear because of the major procedure; not tears of joy because of the possibility of a new life but tears of sorrow. She knew that her new lungs meant someone else was dying. While her family would hopefully enter into a celebration of new life, the donor’s family would be planning a funeral.
The operation that was supposed to take 6-8 hours ended up taking only 4. Things went beautifully. In two days, she was up walking. This picture comes 2 and a half weeks after the surgery. Her color returned and she began to explore her new lease on life. Yet, she couldn’t get the family of the young woman whose lungs now resided in her body out of her mind.
So Melody wrote them a letter which she has posted online. It reads: Dear Family, I am sure this letter may be difficult to read. It is difficult to write. It is both painful and joyous. The reason I am writing is to thank you an expression which is used quite often and sometimes just in passing. This is a different kind of "Thank you." It is a "Thank you" that defies English, French or any language.
