No Words, Only Songs... for our Emmanuel

Every Thursday this semester, I've had a clinical placement at the Indiana Veterans' Home (IVH). To say I was thrilled at this clinic placement would be a gross over-statement. I had observed at IVH prior to my experience of working there, and my reaction to this assignment was less than ideal. I was, in short, dreading it.

However, after a couple scary first few weeks, I gradually began to tolerate it, and then (lo' and behold!) to enjoy it.

The whole facility is full of grumpy old men (and a couple of equally grumpy ladies), who are starved for attention and confused about where they are and what's going on. Several weeks ago we added a new client. I'm going to call him "Murphy."

"Murphy" is younger than most of the residents at IVH. He's in his 50s and suffered a debilitating stroke that left him almost completely unable to walk, talk, or take care of himself. He had just gotten married, and his family was not expecting this tragedy (what family ever is?). Instead of complete sentences, "Murphy" is only able to say the word "differ" (with excellent inflection and charisma), in addition to some occasional phrases that we speech therapists call "memorized wholes." (For example, he can sing all of "Happy Birthday.")

Today, due to an evaluation on another resident, I was late to "Murphy's" therapy session and found the other clinician already done with most of the activities. When I walked into the room, "Murphy's" face lit up and he animatedly greeted me. (I felt like a million bucks). Because singing had gone so well in the past, we decided to try some Christmas carols.

Apparently I was the only clinician who couldn't claim to be tone-deaf. So, all on my own, I began singing, hoping that "Murphy" would join in and remember some of the words to these old favorites.

And he did.

For ten minutes, the only sound in his room was both of us singing. Using his communication device, he requested "Joy to the World," "Away in the Manger," "We wish you a Merry Christmas," etc.

As we finished with "Silent Night," "Murphy" teared up. Unable to say all the words, he followed my pitch, only producing words at the end of the phrases. These were the only ones he was able to sing.

As you sing with your family this holiday, be it around the Christmas tree, or in a candlelight Christmas Eve service, really, truly sing. God, the one who became man, who released his immeasurable power, who became a helpless, ignored baby, is the one we are celebrating this Christmas. And although many others have forgotten people such as the residents at IVH, God never has.

How great is our Emmanuel.