Double Happiness
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital
room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour
each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His
bed was next to the room's only window.
The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives
and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military
service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon
when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass
the time by describing to his room-mate all the things he could see
outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those
one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened
by all the activity and colour of the world outside.
The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and
swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats.
Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every
colour of the rainbow.
Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view
of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window
described all this in exquisite detail, the man
on the other side of the room would close his eyes
and imagine the picturesque scene. One warm afternoon the man by
the window described a parade passing by.
Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could
see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed
it with descriptive words.
Then unexpectedly, a sinister thought entered his
mind. Why should the other man alone experience all the pleasures
of seeing everything while he himself never got to see anything?
It didn't seem fair. At first thought the man felt ashamed. But as
the days
passed and he missed seeing more sights, his envy eroded
into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to brood
and he found himself unable to sleep.
He should be by that window- that thought, and only that thought
now controlled his life.
Late one night as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man
by the window began to cough. He was choking on the fluid in his
lungs. The other man watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling
man by the window groped for the button to call for help. Listening
from
across the room he never moved, never pushed his own
button which would have brought the nurse running in.
In less than five minutes the coughing and choking stopped,
along with that the sound of breathing. Now there was only silence-deathly
silence. The following morning the day nurse arrived to bring water
for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man
by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take
it away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if
he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to
make the switch, and after making sure he
was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped
himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside.
Finally, he would have the
joy of seeing it all himself. He strained to slowly turn
to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.
The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his
deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things
outside this window. The nurse responded that the man
was blind and could not even see the wall. She
said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."
Epilogue. . . .
You can interpret the story in any way you like. But one
moral stands out:
There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite
our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when
shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all of the things
You have that money can't buy.