It All Started With A Coconut Cake…..

        A hawk winked at me from his perch on the fountain, too shy to pose for the camera I grabbed clumsily and aimed his direction.   Two geese, paired for life, honked blessings as dawn’s first rays peeked into my room.  An African gospel choir chanted a calming, majestic melody while outside the waterfalls splashed relentlessly, beckoning me to join them.  Turtles dozing on driftwood warmed themselves in the morning light ignoring the water’s playful reflections.  A giant blue heron swooped in to fish in the shallows while starving koi hunted food in the pond safely out of his reach and golden finches flirted at the feeder.  
         Beaming with satisfaction, a rainbow smiled on the cerulean water and verdant vegetation surrounding them.  Fresh breezes wandered into this cathedral from every corner of the earth, spreading the fragrant grace of lush roses, camellias and gardenias for all to enjoy and stirring the leafy branches of wax myrtles and elms to sway with the spiritual music of my African friends.  A taloned duck strutted deliciously on the bank, craving his breakfast of ripe tomatoes shining from their vines.  With their ears back and necks stretched, ravenous rabbits transformed into meerkats and nibbled gratefully at hibiscus flowers.  Colorful parrots and bright flamingos danced on the walls with flamboyant peacocks and toucans.  Monkeys played on ropes suspended from a tree while a lion stood statuesque guarding this kingdom.  

As I sipped a banana coconut tea, I should not be surprised were a zebra or giraffe to meander by.  The sun rose higher.  It was Sunday morning.  And I was home.

The journey had been long and unpredictable, as many are, but what perplexed me most was not how I had gotten here, nor that I had even made it at all, because I had trusted in God to hold my hand and lead me, but that I could not remember when this journey began.

I think it began as a new doctor trying to become busy and take care of more patients.  I met Margaret, a 60 year old black woman who fit the stereotype of the Southern maid.  She had been the private household maid of a prominent Charlotte family.  Poor, uneducated, with few skills, and with her health problems spiraling out of control, she rode a bus to my office to get help with her failing vision.  Her longstanding diabetes and hypertension were beginning to take its toll but she was still friendly and quick to laugh.  After examining her, I told her the bad news.  She needed laser surgery in both eyes to prevent her from becoming permanently blind. 

She asked if I could do the surgery and I said I could, right here in my office with a special laser I had purchased.  But, she confessed, she did not have any medical insurance nor any money to pay me.  She seemed dejected at her circumstances and said so.

I thought for a moment, trying to understand this person and empathize with her as I had learned to do. 

“I bet you make a good coconut cake.” I prodded.

Margaret smiled and laughed, a twinkle forming in those failing eyes of hers.  “The best.” She grinned proudly.

“Do you make it in layers, with fresh coconut, and let it sit for a few days before serving it so it gets all good and juicy?”  I teased.

“No other way to do it.”  She laughed but seemed surprised at the depth of knowledge of coconut cakes coming from a skinny ophthalmologist.

“I tell you what,” I offered, “you be here Thursday afternoon with one of your homemade coconut cakes, and I’ll do your surgery.” 

Margaret argued for a while that I needed to be paid, that I could not do this for free, but when I persisted, she agreed.

Thursday afternoon came and Margaret stepped proudly into my waiting room, handing my receptionist a chilled, heavy plastic cake container as she signed in.  “Give this to Dr. Branner.  He knows about it.”

I did her laser surgery that day grateful that I had been given the skills and technology to keep Margaret from losing her vision.  And when I scheduled her second eye, she kept her word, traveling on the bus to my office, cradling another juicy, homemade coconut cake all the way.

I still see Margaret.  And Margaret, thankfully, still sees me.  Now retired she can still see to raise her children and grandchildren, and she sometimes sends them in to get their eyes examined.  And every once in a while, she even brings me a coconut cake.