07/31/2024
TWO MEN AND A WINDOW
Two men, both seriously ill, shared a hospital room. One could sit up for an hour each day to help drain fluids from his lungs, and his bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to lie flat on his back all the time.
They talked about their families, homes, jobs, military service, and vacations. Every afternoon, when the man by the window could sit up, he would describe to his roommate everything he could see outside from that window.
The man in the other bed lived for those one-hour periods when his world was expanded by the lively, colorful view outside. The man by the window described a park with a sparkling lake, where ducks and swans played and children sailed model boats. Lovers strolled among vibrant blooms, grand trees dotted the landscape, and the city skyline was visible in the distance. As he painted this exquisite detail, the man on the other side closed his eyes, imagining the beautiful scene.
One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn’t hear the band, he could visualize it through the vivid descriptions. Then, an unexpected thought crossed his mind.
"Why should he have all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never see anything?" he thought. It didn’t seem fair. Initially, he felt ashamed, but as days passed and he missed more sights, his envy turned into resentment and bitterness. He began to brood, lost sleep, and the idea that he should be by the window consumed him. It became an unrelenting obsession, controlling his thoughts and emotions.
Late one night, as he lay in bed brooding over his envy and frustration about the lack of a window, the man by the window began to cough violently, struggling with fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dim room as the sick man reached for the call button, his efforts growing more desperate. Despite the urgent situation, the man across the room did nothing—he didn't press his own button to summon help. Within minutes, the coughing ceased, followed by a heavy silence.
The next morning, the nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. Finding the man by the window lifeless, she was saddened but called for the attendant to take the body away quietly. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the man asked to be moved to the window spot. The nurse gladly complied, settled him comfortably, and then left him alone.
Slowly and painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow for his first view of the world outside. He was eager to finally see the park, the parades, and all the activity his deceased roommate had described. With great effort, he turned to look out the window. To his horror, the window was obstructed by a huge brick wall, blocking any view outside.
Overwhelmed with shock, the man pressed the call button and, with agitation, asked the nurse, "Why would my deceased roommate describe such detailed and wonderful things outside this window? There’s nothing to see. Where are all the beautiful sights he talked about? Is this a new wall? Why was I given such vivid details about something that doesn’t exist?"
The confused nurse shook her head sadly and replied, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you and make you happy. You see, your roommate was completely blind."
