I am not a telethon watcher. Back in the day, I used to resent Jerry and the gang taking up all the TV stations on Labor Day weekend. PBS has good telethons, but I lose interest after about 10 minutes.
Compassionate? Guess not?
Or maybe I am. I was moved to tears last night watching Stand Up To Cancer, the one hour long telethon hosted by all three major networks. I called. I gave.
My mother died of lung cancer. My sister is a breast cancer survivor. I have known many people who have fought and died in the cancer war.
I am not a telethon watcher. But I found myself praying to our Father in heaven to use that hour long TV show to give cancer research a boost. Wouldn’t it be a day of victory, like none other, if doctors and scientists announced they’d found a cure?
A lovely thought. A worthwhile prayer. A well spent donation.
I miss my mom. She never met John or saw Noah. Before she died, she knew I wrote a lot for fun and contemplation, but that’s all. She has never read anything I have written since beginning my journey of serious writing.
Cancer took her. I don’t want it to take someone else I love. The thought brings tears and prayers. It even brought me to get my wallet.
Want to donate? Go to www.standuptocancer.org
Scientists say we are closer than you might think to a cure. Wow. That will be a good day.
