24 hours ago, the annual Maimonides Hospital luncheon for 2000 volunteers (rounded of to 1800) was celeb rated and honored by the Brooklyn Hospitals female leadership and triumvirate of male colleagues….
II
Having grown up with Maimonides’s credo ‘The guide for the perplexed’ resting on a living room table as long as we can remember and having toured the Spanish village of Cordova, where the philosopher physician was born, but which he fled…the moment of the Inquisition
To Egypt, but initially to Morocco, where he laid the foundation for his sculptured insights for an ethical wholesomeness… the discoveries for these energetic volunteers being honored withhis birthright ,nearly one thousand years ago in Cordoba, Spain.
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Speaker after speaker resonated with the respect for theenthusiasm of these 1800 quality human beings, sitting at their tables, linen napkins covering their places, hearing their plaudits, their eyes feasting o n their chicken or salmon with deep fried veggies and small potatoes, the multi screens reflecting the flow, streaming through the air…from their arrival, their daily energies, interacting a weave, strum with a s mile, a quip, a knowledge laden with empathy, experience,compassion , and enthusiasm for the patients, nurses and doctors making their the “symphony of 20000 rounds”, playing out its compassionate I.D’s.
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The waiters and staff for the spacious dining hall were into their own energetic Gene Kelly Fred Astaire steps, dancing their wares, the vegetable and cream of mushroom soups, their white shirts open at the neck, their brisk cadence with their attire, as their quality human beings did their triple turns, sharing experiences, watching the videos of themselves in their specialized roles, mixing with their alter egos, their pivotal rapport…. for the sick, frail, languishing patients.
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To say these quality human beings had mastered their table’s triple threats….schmoosing, eating, watching themselves in theirmultiplexed imaged videos, while devouring those splendidly served chickens and salmons, with the deep fried veggies and small potatoes.
These quality human beings had nourished their own souls with the lives of other humans who need their own nourishment in the sunshine of their caretakers who flocked to this teaching hospital in the environs of the ”French Connection”.
The elevated subway cars riding a block away, on New Utrecht Avenue, the street blocked off by two police cars, the city paying homage to the annual volunteer luncheon.
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The passer bys outside…mothers wheeling their baby carriages…. schoolboys going home , their back packs strapped to their shoulders, unsuspecting their own ”to our someday” will be playing out in the future, responsible as the volunteers exited the spacious dining hall, closing out their honored blessing..
That Maimonides, the teaching hospital with residents, interns and master M.D.’s would be swept up in the recuperative spell of the Philosopher Doctor out of Cordoba, that village in Southern Spain, where he first saw the light of day.
June 4, 2015 The City that never sleeps
