Painting the Future by Louise Hay

Author:Louise Hay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Hay House
Published: 2012-02-05T16:00:00+00:00

When Lupe entered the apartment, her grandparents were standing in the foyer, already prepared to leave. “Put on your jacket, Lupe. I know it’s hard. None of us likes to go.”

Lupe went into her room and put on a lightweight jacket. Then they all left the apartment in silence and moved outside to the bus stop. Her grandfather was using a walker.

“Why aren’t you in your wheelchair?” Lupe asked him, adjusting his collar.

“It’s too much trouble, with the bus,” he said.

When they reached the hospital, they entered a long line of exhausted-looking patients waiting for their appointment paperwork. The air conditioner was broken, as were the water fountains. Everyone was complaining.

Once they got their paperwork, they sat in another large, penlike area that was even hotter than the first. Lupe and her grandparents sat in straight-back chairs against the wall. There were dozens of families, many speaking Spanish, others talking languages Lupe couldn’t place.

One man held his head in his hands; several children moaned in a parent’s arms, as if something inside of them were broken.

“When can we get in?” a young girl asked her mother, but her mother shook her head and said wearily, “I don’t know, honey. Please sit still.”

Lupe turned her gaze to the vending machine and tried to imagine what she’d buy if she had all the money in the world. But even the vending machines weren’t tempting here; only off-brand soft drinks and stale-looking nuts and chocolates that had melted in the heat.

Both her grandparents fell asleep, their heads leaning inward, toward Lupe who had also closed her eyes. She was softly chanting: “I love myself; therefore, I live totally in the now, experiencing each moment as good and knowing that my future is bright, joyous, and secure.”

When a nurse called out their name, both grandparents woke with a start. They all stood and filed into the office, where their information was entered into the computer.

Lupe felt as if they were stuck in a process that they’d repeated hundreds of times. What was the sense of computers if every time you had to provide the same material? But her grandparents showed no sign of being angry. Her grandmother got out a small notebook from her purse and reported all the data asked of her in a pleasant voice. Lupe admired her fortitude and level mood; if she ever got sad or scared, she didn’t show it.

Poppy was more emotional. She had once seen him grow so angry that he brought his big fist down on the dining-room table, splitting one of the boards. But he never acted this way in public. His hair was even grayer lately, and much of it had fallen out at some point she hadn’t noticed.

“Do all three of you need to be in here?” the nurse asked roughly when it was time to enter the doctor’s office.

“Yes,” said Lupe’s grandmother. “All of us.”

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