Nancy and I spoke for a short time last night.  She 
was to begin her radiation treatments, but feared that 
she would be unable once again to raise her right arm 
above her head.  She had recently had surgery to 
remover her left breast and in order to have the 
necessary radiation, she would just have to lift that 
arm over her head in a prone position. 

She had done the exercises, walking her hands up the 
wall to try to bring some strength or flexibility to 
help her raise that arm.  She has spoken about that 
challenge every time we talked.  It was her mission. 
It was not much easier gained because she had recently 
had lymph nodes removed and a tube in her body prior 
to the discovery of the cancer in her breast.  She 
already had been battling the lung cancer. 

When we spoke last night, we both had challenges to 
face.  I, too, have a cancer--actually a very simple 
cancer that I have had my own difficulties facing.  I, 
too, was scheduled for a procedure on the same day she 
would attempt to raise her arm. 

She is a Christian (with a Baptist bent).  I am a 
Catholic.  She prayed for me, right there on the 
telephone, aloud.  I thanked her and told her I would 
light a candle for her.  We left each with much love 
and much hope that we both would face up to and come 
through our respective ordeals. 

I lit that candle.  And I let it burn all night. 

When I awoke to that candle, I thought myself a fool 
and lucky to have awaken unscorched and unscathed.  I 
blew it out, hoping that it done some good, but not 
truly believing that it had.  My thoughts of Nancy 
were gone.  I had to prepare myself, for my simple 
ordeal. 

Nancy called me tonight and told me of her painful day 
and that she had managed to get through it.  We both 
were tired, worn down.  I have a respite, though, and 
she has to do that every day for the next seven weeks. 
 I mentioned that perhaps the treatment would somehow 
help to strengthen her arm.  I suggested that perhaps 
I should have lit two candles.  Somehow, though, we 
both seemed to know that there are not enough candles 
in the world--at least not now, and, unhappily, it 
seems there are not enough candles for the one of the 
very few true ladies of the world. 

Prudence Clearwater 
 

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