afternoon snack

"Would you like a taste of this?"
"Well, what flavor do you have there, Mr. Herb?"
"Oh, there really isn't a flavor to it," he said as he observed the carton of his apparently vanilla protein shake, a perfect combination with his afternoon snack of cottage cheese.
"You know what, I think I'm fine just as I am," I said, respectfully declining the straw-sip of powder-to-water magic of a shake.
"You sure?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you, though."

Forty-five seconds pass.

"Would you like a sip of this?"
"Well, I think I'll have to pass this time. I had rice krispie treats for lunch. I'm trying to watch my figure, you know," respectfully declining, again.
"You sure?"
"Yes, sir. Thanks so much, though."

Thirty seconds pass.

"Would you like my shake here? It's vanilla they tell me."
"You know what, I'm really just fine. I've got my water bottle here, and it is filling me up just nicely."
"You sure?"
"Yes, sir. Very kind of you to offer, though. Maybe next week when I stop in it will be chocolate. You can bet I'll have a sip of that!"

Thirty seconds pass.

Mr. Herb sucks the protein shake carton dry.
"Oh, I've hit the bottom."
"Sounds like it," I noticed.
"Oh no. What have I done," Mr. Herb horrifically gasped. "I just drank this whole shake and didn't even offer you one sip."
"Oh, Mr. Herb, no bother really. You know, I've been drinking my water here, and I'm doing just fine. Don't worry about that at all. Sounds like you enjoyed it, down to the last drop!"
"I didn't. But you don't understand. Don't you see? You would have found more satisfaction in this than I did. You should have had it. I can't believe myself...not offering you even a sip. You would have loved it...."

Again I comforted Mr. Herb, reassuring him that I'd take him up on the chocolate shake next week.

Mr. Herb won't remember me next week when I bounce in his barren room in the Siloam Springs Nursing Home, and take him for a whirl in his wheel chair. He won't remember that my name is Jennifer and that he offers me his protein shake upwards of 10 times a visit. This is the heart-wrenching dialogue that occurs over and over again with Alzheimer's patients. But I will remember his generosity. Mr. Herb and his "vanilla" protein shake taught me that if I see that another person will find more satisfaction in my wealth, no matter if it is in a carton, on a hanger, or in my wallet, I should offer it. I should offer whatever I have, again and again and again. Mr. Herb is the most giving person I know, even if he doesn't realize it anymore.