When I arrived at 6 a.m. in the large hospital kitchen, Rose was already checking name tags on the trays against the patient roster. Stainless steel shelves held rows of breakfast trays which we would soon be serving.
“Hi, I’m Janet.” I tried to sound cheerful, although I already knew Rose’s reputation for being impossible to work with. “I’m scheduled to work with you this week.”
Rose, a middle-aged woman with graying hair, stopped what she was doing and peered over her reading glasses. I could tell from her expression she wasn’t pleased to see a student worker.
“What do you want me to do? Start the coffee?”
Rose sullenly nodded and went back to checking name tags.
I filled the 40-cup pot with cold water and began making the coffee when Rose gruffly snapped, “That’s not the way to make coffee.” She stepped in and took over.
“I was just doing it the way our supervisor showed us to do it,” I said in astonishment. “The patients like the coffee better the way I do it,” she replied curtly.
Nothing I did pleased her. All morning her eagle eyes missed nothing and her sharp words stung. She literally trailed me around the kitchen.
Later, after breakfast had been served and the dishes had been washed, I set up my share of trays for the next meal. Then I busied myself cleaning the sink. Certainly Rose couldn’t criticize the way I did that.
When I turned around, there stood Rose, rearranging all of the trays I had just set up!
Totally exhausted, I trudged the six blocks home from the University of Minnesota Hospital late that June afternoon. As a third year university student working my way through school, I had never before encountered anyone like Rose.
Fighting back tears, I wrestled with my dilemma alone in my room. “Lord, what do you want me to do? I can’t take much more of Rose.”
I turned the possibilities over in my mind. Should I see if my supervisor would switch me to work with someone else? Scheduling was fairly flexible. On the other hand, I didn’t want to be a quitter. I knew my older co-workers were watching to see if my actions matched my words.
The answer to my prayer caught me completely by surprise — I needed to love Rose.
Love her? No way! Tolerate, yes, but loving her was impossible.
“Lord, I can’t love Rose. You’ll have to do it through me.”
Working with Rose the next morning, I ignored the barbs thrown in my direction and did things Rose’s way as much as possible to avoid friction. As I worked, I silently began to surround Rose with a warm blanket of prayers. “Lord, help me love Rose. Lord, bless Rose.”
Over the next few days an amazing thing began to happen. As I prayed for this irritating woman, my focus shifted from what she was doing to me, and I started seeing Rose as the hurting person she was. The icy tension began to melt away.
