Querido Presidente y Hermana Jones,
I remember fighting my way awake after surgery and hearing my mom tell a very familiar voice that I had cancer. This was news to me (granted, I had my suspicions) and I remember being torn between wanting to find out more about this cancer diagnosis and wanting to figure out who that voice belonged to. Imagine my delight (and shock!) to realize it was Presidente Jones! The only explanation I could come up with was that you were my doctor; which you very graciously corrected. You brought Hermana Jones by later, (a most excellent gift) and the loveliness from you both continued from there. In addition to the notes and calls you continued to drop by the hospital whenever I had surgeries. You chatted with me about scriptures and gave me blessings. And perhaps the loveliest thing of all, you checked up on a mutual friend I was worried about (and took lovely care of her too) and gave my parents somewhere to stay so they could have a break from the less-than luxurious couch in my hospital room. I still remember how much relief I felt when I found out they'd get a chance to sleep in a real bed and relax a little. I get all weepy just thinking about it.
You were so busy and so thoughtful. I'll always be grateful for your continued example of love and service and faith and optimism. You've served me in many more ways than this of course, but this blog I'll leave those thank you letters for another time.
Con carino,
Hermana Schwartz
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