FOODFORTHOUGHT

CLEAN BLOOD
Author Unknown
July 21, 2011

The day is over, you are driving home. You tune in your radio. You
hear a little blurb about a little village in India where some
villagers have died suddenly, strangely, of a flu that has never been
seen before. It's not influenza, but three or four fellows are dead,
and it's kind of interesting. They're sending some doctors over there
to investigate it.

You don't think much about it, but on Sunday, coming home from church,
you hear another radio spot. Only they say it's not three villagers,
it's 30,000 villagers in the back hills of this particular area of
India, and it's on TV that night. CNN runs a little blurb; people are
heading there from the
disease center in Atlanta because this disease strain has never been
seen before.

By Monday morning when you get up, it's the lead story. For it's not
just India; it's Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, and before you know it,
you're hearing this story everywhere and they have coined it now as
"the mystery flu". The President has made some comment that he and
everyone are praying and hoping that all will go well over there. But
everyone is wondering, "How
are we going to contain it?" That's when the President of France makes
an announcement that shocks Europe. He is closing their borders. No
flights from India, Pakistan, or any of the countries where this thing
has been seen.

That night you are watching a little bit of CNN before going to bed.
Your jaw hits your chest when a weeping woman is translated from a
French news program into English: "There's a man lying in a hospital
in Paris dying of the mystery flu. "It has come to Europe. Panic
strikes. As best they can tell, once you get it, you have it for a
week and you don't know it. Then you have four days of unbelievable
symptoms. Then you die. Britain closes it's borders, but it's too
late. South Hampton, Liverpool, North Hampton, and it's Tuesday
morning when the President of the United States makes the following
announcement:

"Due to a national security risk, all flights to and from Europe and
Asia have been canceled. If your loved ones are overseas, I'm sorry.
They cannot come back until we find a cure for this thing." Within
four days our nation has been plunged into an unbelievable fear.
People are selling little masks for your face. People are talking
about what if it comes to this country, and preachers on Tuesday are
saying, "It's the scourge of God. "It's Wednesday night and you are at
a church prayer meeting when somebody runs in from the parking lot and
says, "Turn on a radio, turn on a radio." While the church listens to
a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to
it, the announcement is made," Two women are lying in a Long Island
hospital dying from the mystery flu." Within hours it seems, this
thing just sweeps across the country.

People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote.
Nothing is working. California, Oregon, Arizona, Florida,
Massachusetts. It's as though it's just sweeping in from the borders.
Then, all of a sudden the news comes out. The code has been broken. A
cure can be found. A vaccine can be made. It's going to take the blood
of somebody who hasn't been infected, and so,
sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all those channels of
emergency broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple thing: "Go
to your downtown hospital and have your blood type taken. That's all
we ask of you. When you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood,
please make your way quickly, quietly, and safely to the hospitals."
Sure enough, when you
and your family get down there late on that Friday night, there is a
long line, and they've got nurses and doctors coming out and pricking
fingers and taking blood and putting labels on it.

Your wife and your kids are out there, and they take your blood type
and they say, "Wait here in the parking lot and if we call your name,
you can be dismissed and go home." You stand around scared with your
neighbors, wondering what in the world is going on, and that this is
the end of the world. Suddenly a young man comes running out of the
hospital screaming. He's yelling a name and waving a clipboard. What?
He yells it again! And your son tugs on your jacket and says, "Daddy,
that's me." Before you know it, they have grabbed your boy. "Wait a
minute, hold it!" And they say, "It's okay, his blood is clean. His
blood is pure. We want to make sure he doesn't have the disease. We
think he has got the right type."

Five tense minutes later, out come the doctors and nurses, crying and
hugging one another some are even laughing. It's the first time you
have seen anybody laugh in a week, and an old doctor walks up to you
and says, "Thank you, sir. Your son's blood type is perfect. It's
clean, it is pure, and we can make the vaccine." As the word begins to
spread all across that parking lot full of folks, people are screaming
and praying and laughing and crying.

But then the gray-haired doctor pulls you and your wife aside and
says, "May we see you for a moment? We didn't realize that the donor
would be a minor and we need. . . we need you to sign a consent form."
You begin to sign and then you see that the number of pints of blood
to be taken is empty. "H-h-h-how many pints?" And that is when the old
doctor's smile fades and he says, "We had no idea it would be a little
child. We weren't prepared. We need it all!" "But but..." "You don't
understand. We are talking about the world here. Please sign. We - we
need it all - we need it all!" "But can't you give him a transfusion?"
"If we had clean blood we would. Can you sign? Would you sign?" In
numb silence you do. Then they say, "Would you like to have a moment
with him before we begin?"

Can you walk back? Can you walk back to that room where he sits on a
table saying, "Daddy? Mommy? What's going on?" Can you take his hands
and say, "Son, your mommy and I love you, and we would never ever let
anything happen to you that didn't just have to be.

Do you understand that?" And when that old doctor comes back in and
says, "I'm sorry, we've - we've got to get started. People all over
the world are dying." Can you leave? Can you walk out while he is
saying, "Dad? Mom? Dad? Why - why have you forsaken me?"

And then next week, when they have the ceremony to honor your son, and
some folks sleep through it, and some folks don't even come because
they go to the lake, and some folks come with a pretentious smile and
just pretend to care. Would you want to jump up and say, "MY SON DIED!
DON'T YOU CARE?"

Is that what God is saying? "MY SON DIED. DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I
CARE?"

"Father, seeing it from your eyes breaks our hearts. Maybe now we
begin to comprehend the great love you have for us. Amen "

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