A few years ago, the boys and I helped serve breakfast at the Ronald McDonald House in downtown Cincinnati. Across the street from Children’s Hospital, it provides housing, food and support for families with children receiving long-term treatment at the medical center.
The boys and I helped cut fruit and stack bagels before joining a table where a little boy sat with his mom. I can’t remember their hometown but do recall they’d been living at the house for several weeks while the boy underwent chemo. The boy’s dad and siblings were back home. They spoke nightly on the phone.
Looking at the child’s port and baldhead, I saw the boy from a parent’s perspective. My heart hurt to see him so sick. His bravery in the face of something so terrible was uplifting.
My boys saw him as someone else to play cars.
“Can we stay and play?” they asked after we’d cleared up the breakfast dishes. The little boy with the port stood beside them smiling. “In the playroom?” They pointed to a room off the kitchen. Even from here I could see the bright colors of plastic toys and trucks.
“Sure,” I said. And they were off. My boys weren’t fazed in the least by the boy’s baldhead. To his credit, he wasn’t fazed by the rowdiness of my boys.
I loved taking my boys and have often thought we need to return with another meal.
I’m homebound with a sick F. so checked online to find a day and time that might work. Valentine’s Day dinner is open. What a fun night to bring dinner, I think. I’m thinking themed food and lots of red food coloring. Maybe red noodles with rolls cut with a heart-shaped cookie cutter? How about breadsticks in the shape of Cupid’s arrows? This is going to be great!
Before I commit, I need to recruit some friends to join us. Dinner involves serving 125 people and don’t know if the Ellis family can manage this on our own. Friends immediately respond back and it’s booked.
If you live in the Cincinnati area and want to join in on the
chaos fun, send me an email and I’ll
send you the details.