Helping hands, helping and elderly lady.

It's What I Do

I was just coming off the elevator at the hospital. My mind racing, my heart pounding and a smile on my face that must have said something to her.

In a split second I knew better. You see it happens to me all the time. Even when I'm not smiling.

It was God saying, "Here's another one."

I write these stories and share them with you because it is what I am supposed to do. I will tell you truly that if I were you, after awhile, I might just stop believing me, too. How could one guy meet so many wonderful people?

Dreamers make the world brighter, more hope-filled. Skeptics test the dreamers and force them to take action, to act on what they believe, not jjust dream about it.

I am a dreamer who dreams out loud and acts on what I dream about.

A dream is just a fairy tale until someone makes it happen.

To some of you this might seem trivial, nice, but not life changing.

Others might see the hope in it.

It is January and I was told that the hospital, doctors, nurses and staff were being put to the test because many people put off surgery until immediately after the holidays.

Some were there not by choice.

When I stepped off the elevator they all disappeared. A normally crowded ground floor was empty, but for one woman.

My moment of joy had me focused on other things, people I needed to call, friends, family and yes, one good cup of coffee.

Yet, I paused there in an area where four elevators waited for one woman.

She was a little over five feet tall. Her white, soft hair gently, perfectly, curled at her forehead and rested in the back on the collar of her wool winter coat.

Without hesitation she came to me, asking "Could you help me, please?"

I knew God was setting me up, connecting me as He has thousands of times with someone who had a story to tell, a message to share, or a need to fill.

My joy-filled heart could not, would not permit me to turn her away, push her off to someone else, perhaps a hospital staff person, so I could go on with my own needs.

I just said "yes."

"I need to go to the sixth floor. Could you get on the elevator and take me there?" she asked. Her soft spoken tone spoke to me in a different way. It didn't say, "I'm afraid of elevators." Many people are. It said, "I need someone to be with me, I am more afraid of what lies ahead than what lies within those doors."

The ground floor area remained empty, No one would join us as we stepped into the elevator. I looked down and she was wiping away tears.

"Who are you here to see?" I asked.

"My husband has a pace maker. He is having a hard time breathing," she replied.

"I promise you that I will see him in my prayers," I said as I reached for the 6th floor button.

Normally even a short ride on these elevators involves stopping at several floors on a busy day. This one was non stop.

As we stepped off I asked, "Do you know where you are going?"

"No," she whispered.

"Does he have a room?"

"Yes, 676."

"Let's go find him," I said as I placed my left hand on her shoulder.

We walked one direction and then found we needed to go to the other side. As we approached the nurses station, I thought for a moment that maybe I should ask someone for help. I couldn't get anyone's attention and God whispered, "this is your responsibility." So, we continued down the hall counting "670, 672, 74 and 676."

We stood in the doorway and I asked, "Is this the lucky man?"

He was seated on the edge of his bed. His head resting on a stack of pillows he placed on the bedside food tray.

Looking up he appeared startled and confused.

"Look who I found!" I said to him and then introduced myself.

She turned toward me and with a gentle smile on her face thanked me for taking the time to help her.

"It's what I do." I said.

Those are my words now. I have come to terms with the fact that all these things I do is my job, my place in life. I said it one day to my daughter-in-law. It was the perfect answer. It was almost like saying "I do this for a living." Or, "It's who I am."

Immediately after saying goodbye to this couple, I walked out the door of the room and raising my hands to the sky, I litterally jumped for joy with the satisfaction of knowing that God did this for me. Yes, for me, not just for her.

I returned to the ground floor and when the door of the elevator opened dozens of people were scrambling to board any one of the available lifts.

"Where were you before?" I thought.

Still faced with my personal task of calling friends and family with the good news of the day, I found a quiet spot near a window to place my calls.

About twenty minutes later, as I was headed to find my first cup of coffee, I passed by the hospital gift shop.

He spoke to me again..."You are not yet finished with her," I heard.

Without hesitation, I went inside and purchased a vase with two single roses in it. The clerk handed me a note card and I signed it, "From the guy who helped you find Him."

Yes, "Him." God found us both.

I returned to room 676 and handed her the vase.

Shocked, surprised, overwhelmed falls short of the look on her face.

She, still holding a tissue, reached her arms toward me for a hug. I am a hugger.

I am a dreamer.

More importantly, I am a doer.  Why?

"It's what I do."  It's what God wants you to do, too.

"I wish you enough!"
~ Bob Perks ~

Good news - Bob Perks' first book, "I Wish You Enough," Embracing Life's Most Valuable Moments... is now available for ordering. Here's the "Link" to get your copy of Bob's book: I Wish You Enough from
[ by: Bob Perks Copyright © 2011 ( -- {used with permission} ]

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