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“When you really want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” These are the last words I read before closing my eyes after a tiring twelve-hour day at Lazarus House and the Boys and Girls Club. But I wake up the next morning, and like a song on repeat, I can’t forget that sentence. The words remind me of the conversation I had two days ago. I had forgotten my sweatshirt at Lazarus House five minutes after leaving for the Boys and Girls Club, and I turned the car around chastising myself for my forgetfulness. I grabbed my sweatshirt from the second floor and came bounding down the stairs knowing I was going to be late. But at the bottom of the stairs, a woman dressed in scrubs halted my steps. She wanted to know who I was, what I was doing, and where I went to school. Three minutes later I am turning the key in the ignition smiling at my good fortune. The woman dressed in scrubs—hereafter known as Gretchen—had just offered me the opportunity to work in the free dental health clinic located adjacent to the soup kitchen. And all I could do was give her a hug and smile to myself, the aspiring dentist, and wait for the next day. Again, as I step into the dental clinic the next morning, I hear the words I read the previous night. The woman at the desk welcomes me with open arms (literally) and pulls out a bag full of scrubs from under the table that she is giving me for my first days of work. I pull them over my head and surprise myself when I turn toward the mirror and see myself in uniform. No sooner am I dressed than the assistants equip me with goggles, mask, and gloves. Two minutes later I am standing next to a volunteer dentist—Doctor Eric—as we listen to a man tell us his story (for the privacy of the patient parts of the quote have been omitted). “Well, life didn’t turn out quite the way I expected. Just didn’t expect life, I guess.” The dentist nods his head in silent empathy before grabbing Novocain needles and the instrumentation he will use to extract two rotten teeth from the man.
The visceral reaction of most people when they go to the dentist is a groan, but for the guests of St. Luke’s Clinic, St. Luke and dentists like Doctor Eric are saviors. These individuals suffer not only from the acute pain of their teeth but also from their bruised humility that comes from years of joblessness, homelessness, and no education. But as I shuttle back and forth between the two operating rooms, I watch Doctor Eric, and the stories of these people leave him unperturbed. He works with certain determinism, confident that his abilities and the service he is providing can improve these people’s lives. In particular, I watch Doctor Eric as I translate English to Spanish for the patient. Doctor Eric doesn’t look at me as he speaks. He looks at the man sitting in the chair. Doctor Eric reminds me of the words of authors Paul Ballard and Pam Couture in their book Globalization and Difference. “When we offer hospitality to a stranger, we welcome something new, unfamiliar, and unknown into our lives that has the potential to expand our world.” And as the patient stands at the end of his surgery, he grabs the arms of the doctor and me—seeking to shake our hands. As he shakes our hands, I think “yes, this man is a stranger” but “this man is welcoming me into his world by offering me his gratitude.” And for the second time, I hear the words in my head “When you really want something, the whole world conspires with you.” And I think that this man, this doctor, and the woman in the office may—just may—be conspiring with me toward my dream of becoming a dentist. |
