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the top of her bifocals, her eyes soft, motherlike. I had never seen here like this before.
    “Let me tell you what I’ve learned about prayer,” she continued.
    Virginia had an older brother, Michael, and the two had been very close during their school years and into their twenties. They lived a fewhours apart but managed to see each other on a frequent basis. He found a niche in the insurance business and she pursued her career in nursing.
    “I always took it for granted that we would be close, that our relationship would always be solid, special. And it was , up until ten or eleven years ago. Something happened—I can’t even remember what exactly—and we had an argument. I suppose it was the wrong time and the wrong place, but things escalated and words were spoken—hurtful words—things that should never have been said. But they were, and our relationship exploded. Looking back on it now, I don’t…”
    She paused, folded her hands, and shook her head.
    “Anyway.” Virginia sat up straight in her chair and adjusted her eyeglasses. “That was that, for a lot of years. We didn’t talk, we didn’t write, we didn’t see each other. And I grieved for the loss of my brother. This went on for years. We might bump into each other at a family gathering, but there was no real communication, no sign on his part of being sorry.” She chuckled and shook her head again. “Nor on mine, I suppose. But I was praying every day. I asked the Lord to heal our relationship, to soften Michael’s heart. But nothing happened. No phone call, no letter. Nothing. But I kept praying for the Lord to intervene. I knew this could change, that it had to change, if only Michael could see the truth. Then he got sick.”
    Suddenly, I remembered. Virginia didn’t talk about her personal life very much, but a few years ago she’d told me that her brother had been ill. She hadn’t mentioned his name or what kind of problem he was having. It was another one of our longtime nurses, Harriet Gray, who had told me he had died. Harriet was a year younger than Virginia and was her closest friend. Virginia missed a day of work to go to his funeral, and that was it.
    “It was terminal,” Virginia said bluntly. “When I heard, he was already at home, dying. There was nothing else to be done for him. I threw some stuff in a bag, jumped in my car, and headed out to see him. I remember saying a prayer, asking that he not have to suffer, and I prayed once again that his heart would be open and we would be able to talk, before he…”
    She looked over at Lori and their eyes met. Virginia smiled and said, “I knew right then, right in that instant, that the Lord had answered my prayer. But it wasn’t at all what I had been hoping and praying for. He had softened my heart. That was the work that needed to be done and he had done it. All those years, praying for Michael to see the light, and it was my eyes that had been closed— my eyes that had been blind— my heart thathad been hardened. The Lord was answering my prayers, and he was waiting for me to understand.” She stopped and put a hand on Lori’s shoulder.
    “But Ms. Granger, I don’t know…” Lori’s voice trailed off and her head slumped to her chest again.
    “That’s the point, Lori.” Virginia’s voice was strong and sure. “Most of the time we don’t know. We just have to believe and trust. We may not understand the things that are happening around us—happening to us—but we have to believe that his ultimate will is for our good, to bring us closer to him. And we have to keep praying. He’ll answer those prayers—every one of them. The important thing is to trust those answers, to learn to accept his will. He sees what we can’t. He knows what we don’t. It’s hard sometimes, but our walk on this earth is full of things we don’t want, and things we don’t expect.”
    The ambulance-entrance doors flew open and a young woman ran into the department. In her arms