Nothing puts life into perspective quite like a traumatic experience. It makes our day-to-day grievances seem trivial. A close call has a way of engaging our survival instincts. It’s a reminder that our bodies are fragile and we’re all living on borrowed time. Some might find this truth unnerving. Yet, there’s a silver lining to this notion. When someone cheats death, it’s because their soul has chosen life. Their soul has signed, sealed, and delivered a message to the Universe that reads, “I. Am. Not. Finished.”
My daughter’s best friend had a close call yesterday. Penelope has been taking horseback riding lessons. Her horse was spooked, reared up, and kicked Penelope in the face. She’s at home and stable now, but everyone feared the worst when it initially happened. She never lost consciousness, but the loss of blood was very concerning. The impact knocked out a few permanent teeth. Her jaw was broken on both sides and may have to be wired shut.
While in the emergency room last night, a nurse held Penelope’s hand and explained what was about to happen. “You’re going to have several doctors working on you simultaneously,” she said. “They’re all here to help. Having that many people standing over you might be overwhelming, but I need you to be brave and calm. Can you do that for me?” With misty eyes and labored breathing, Penelope silently nodded.
During all the commotion, one of the doctors leaned into Penelope’s ear and whispered, “You’re doing an amazing job. Just hang in there.”
At this moment, Penelope raised her hand as if she wanted to say something. The doctors and nurses froze momentarily, and the room grew quiet. The hospital staff assumed she was confused or delirious. Although hardly able to speak, Penelope said, “I just wanted to say thanks to all of you for taking such good care of me. You’re doing a great job, and I’m very grateful.”
One of the doctors later pulled aside Penelope’s mom. He had tears in his eyes and explained that Penelope’s heartfelt comment had changed his life. He admitted he’s been finding his job difficult in recent months due to the trauma and injuries he witnesses on a daily basis. He said that Penelope’s kind words brought back a human aspect to his job that he’d nearly forgotten about. Rarely does he hear the words “thank you.” When patients are in pain, they don’t typically have the mental capacity to think outside of their own situation, let alone offer encouraging words to hospital staff.
Yet, at that moment, the doctor remembered why he went into the medical field. He remembered his life’s purpose, his ultimate calling. It was a realization that he was, in fact, living his dream. Most of the time, it’s a thankless job. But last night, an eleven-year-old gave him the greatest gift of all. Perspective.
The doctor praised Penelope’s mom for raising such a remarkable and thoughtful human. Being the humble person she is, Penelope’s mom took little credit, explaining that her daughter was simply born that way.
I spoke with Penelope’s mom today on the phone. She was calm, cool, and collected. On the other hand, I shed a few tears and got choked up while offering encouragement. Penelope is like a second daughter to me. My family loves her so much it’s hard to convey it in words. My daughter and I moved in across the street from Penelope’s family at the start of the pandemic in 2020. At the time, they were the only people we had regular contact with. The two girls have been inseparable ever since.
Penelope’s courage throughout the ordeal was nothing short of inspiring. And yet, I wasn’t surprised to hear how well she handled the situation. You see, children are braver and more resilient than we give them credit for. Most of them can physically withstand the unthinkable. And a few of them can mentally rise above the seemingly impossible.
I’ve always known Penelope to be strong and resilient in the face of adversity. She’s proved this time and time again. Yet, perhaps her greatest asset is something else entirely. Being strong for herself is one thing. Being strong for others to remind them of their own strength is… well, it’s the stuff heroes are made of.
My brain can’t help but wonder how it could have turned out differently. What if the horse had kicked her in the chest or neck or temple? What if she didn’t… What if she couldn’t…??? I can’t bear to finish the thought.
So, instead of continuing to play out worst-case scenarios that didn’t happen, I’ll let my brain realize what my heart already knows. Penelope is safe. She’s loved. She’s blessed. She’s lucky. She successfully delivered a message to the Universe stating, “I. Am. Not. Finished.”
And the Universe listened. The Universe is always listening. It hears us when we pray, meditate, and cry for help. It listens when our souls are singing with joy. It listens when we dream about the future and hope for the best. It can hear the heartbeat of an eleven-year-old girl with her whole life ahead of her… a life that’s destined to be remarkable. And whether Penelope becomes president or a vlogger or a chef or a photographer or anything else she’s dreamt of within the past year, I know she’s capable of realizing her dreams. At a tender young age, she’s already learned something many adults never figure out - that life sometimes kicks you in the teeth, and it’s not about how you fall down. It’s what you do with yourself when you get back up.
If you’d like to leave some encouraging words for Penelope, I promise to pass them along to her family. Believe me when I say it would make her entire week! You can reply to this blog or email my office - AndyMyersManagement@gmail.com. Either way, thanks in advance for your support.
-Andy
Penelope, you are strong and resilient young lady! Your thoughtfulness to thank those around you in your injured state, shows your selflessness. You are an inspiration to those who you encounter!
Penelope, please continue your awesome life. Stay positive and strong. The world needs your attitude and grace.