Three ways are open to a man who is in sorrow. He who stands on a normal rung weeps, he who stands higher is silent, but he who stands on the topmost rung converts his sorrow in to song. –Rabbi Menahem Mendel
Gentle Reader. Every once in a while I read something that calls me to offer it to you in the words of the writer. What follows is the story of ‘Sue Burns’ as told by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. Rabbi Sacks writes:
“The late Sue Burns suffered from a rare condition called osteosclerosis, progressive deterioration of the spine. Its effect was devastating. She was completely unable to stand or sit, even in a wheelchair. As her condition worsened, she was condemned to spend her life horizontally, permanently confined to bed and in almost constant pain. More than most she had reason to believe that life had dealt her the unkindest of blows.
I met her on one of my visits to care homes, in this case a centre for those who suffered from the most severe forms of debilitation. From the first moment I saw her, I realized that Sue was extraordinary. She greeted me with a radiant smile, like sunshine on a grey day. It seemed to come from deep within, as if she were celebrating being alive. At first I could not understand it. The contradiction between her fate and her mood was total. How, given her condition, was she so obviously at peace with the world and herself?
After we parted, the director of the home told me her story. Early on in the course of her illness, she had decided to dedicate her life to helping others as incapacitated as herself. There were only two problems: unable to move, she could not visit them and they could not visit her. So she set about bringing the world to her bedside. She had two phone lines installed. She taught herself how to use a computer and databases (this was in the late 1980s and early 1990s, before e-mails and the Internet were easily available or widely used, but she had enough with which to begin). From her bed she began building a network of relationships that became the ‘Hope’ Help Line.
Sue contacted people who, like her, suffered serious illness or handicap. She became their adviser, mentor and friend. She spoke with them regularly, helping them endure/cope with crises, advising them on available resources, lifting them when they felt low.
Towards the end of her all-too-short life, she was recognized by the Queen (Sue lived in England) for her outstanding work. Sue was the first person taken to the Palace on a hospital bed and to receive her honor while lying down. She reminded folks that the award was not for her; she had merely been delegated to receive it on behalf of her fellow sufferers. Sue had no time for self-regard.
Quietly, undemonstratively, Sue was a heroine of the spirit. She taught me, as she taught others, what it is to defeat tragedy. The sages once said that the ark in the wilderness ‘lifted those who lifted it.’ They thought they were carrying the ark. In fact it was carrying them. Sue Burns lifted herself by lifting others.
I never asked her what gave her the strength to live as she had done. I think she knew the truth stated by Kierkegaard when he said: ‘The door to happiness opens outwards.’ She never gave her illness the chance to turn her in on herself or feel sorry for her condition. Sue turned outward, caring for other people’s suffering, and in so doing was able to forget her own, or at least, prevent it from demoralizing her.
But I suspect that Sue knew more – that at some time she had said to herself: ‘There must be a reason why this has happened to me. It is God’s way of enabling me to do something I could not have done otherwise.’
Sue found purpose in her suffering. Those who have a ‘why’ for life, said Nietzche, can put up with any ‘how.’
That was Sue Burns, who took affliction and turned it into a blessing.”
Thank you, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks for sharing Sue’s story with us. Let he who has ears listen and learn!
Searcher-Seeker 