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STORIES
The Medal Mom Never Received "In the care of the sick, great tenderness above all things." - Catherine McAuley, foundress of the Sisters of Mercy By Mary Lovee Klipp I remember it like it was yesterday, one of the scenes from my childhood that stands out as the most brilliant, the most loving, the most important—a memory of my Mom. I wasn’t quite nine years old in the summer of 1986 when the lesson of a lifetime imposed itself on the memories of a little girl, her younger sister, and their two friends. We had just spent the most magical of afternoons at Six Flags Mid-America theme park losing ourselves in the excitement of roller coasters, games, and water rides. After a wonderful day, Mom drove the four of us to a McDonald’s nearby for gooey ice cream cones and cookies as a final treat. We all ran outside to the playground to expend the last of our excited energy after gobbling down our treats. Mom followed us outside with a knowing smile on her face that just said “kids.” The other parents and babysitters nodded to her in understanding. I remember climbing up the ladder to the slide when our rough and tumble world came to a scary stop. A girl about my age suddenly fell from another ladder beside me shaking horribly, with her face contorted in pain and her eyes looking all around us in fright. My younger sister Janet started screaming, “Mom! Mom, help!” The other adults rushed to the girl’s side staring down not quite sure what was going on. The child’s mother was inside still ordering food when her daughter and her companions were playing outside. Immediately, my Mom, a registered nurse, broke through the crowd of concerned adults and panicked children and sat down gently next to the little girl, telling her not to be afraid. “Someone, please call an ambulance and I need someone else to go and get a plastic spoon that this girl can bite down on! And try to find her parents,” Mom instructed. Within a few minutes, with the ambulance called, the plastic utensil inserted carefully in the girl’s mouth, and the girl’s mother present, the situation was under control. The girl was still shaking, but not as violently, and she was now being held in her mother’s arms. I ran to my own Mom, scared, but in awe of how she had calmly helped our fallen playmate. Janet and our two friends were also clinging to my Mom’s hands asking what had happened. “She had an epileptic seizure, girls. That’s why she was shaking so much and fell off the ladder,” Mom answered. “But, Mommy, why did you have to put the plastic spoon in her mouth? That looked kinda strange,” I said. “Mary, if she didn’t have something long enough in her mouth, the spasms could have caused her to bite her tongue or choke and then she would have quit breathing. You girls did the right thing by calling the adults over, that was very smart,” Mom said. “Mommy, you’re a hero! You saved her life. Are they going to give you a medal or something?” I asked. “No Mary,” Mom laughed softly. “I’m not a hero, I was just doing my job as a nurse.” But to one little girl, nestled softly in her mother and little sister’s hugs, her Mom was a hero. And now as a 25-year-old adult, I still consider my Mom, Anne Varni, my hero, exemplified by her countless examples of self-sacrifice and loving care since that day in 1986. But, if you ask her, she’ll tell you, like she told us that day, that she was just doing her duty as a nurse.
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 St. Michael the Archangel St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray. And do you, O prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, cast into Hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen. Copyright © 2002 Saint Michael Center for the Blessed Virgin Mary
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