During my years as a hospice volunteer, I had some very moving and meaningful experiences. One, in particular, stands out. I was visiting Theresa, a patient in a nursing home where visitations by family members or friends are few and far between. Theresa was Catholic and though her room was filled with images of her faith she often shared her loneliness with me. One day, when she seemed weaker than usual, I asked her if there was anything she wanted — water, music, prayer, a priest. She looked at me with a smile and pointed to a statue of Mary, on which hung Theresa’s rosary beads.
ខ្ញុំបានមកទស្សនា Theresa, អ្នកជំងឺនៅក្នុងផ្ទះថែទាំមួយដែលលេងដោយសមាជិកក្រុមគ្រួសារឬមិត្តភក្តិមកដល់ពេលនេះមានតិចនិងរវាង។ Theresa គឺកាតូលិកនិងបើទោះបីជាបន្ទប់របស់នាងត្រូវបានគេពោរពេញទៅដោយរូបភាពនៃសេចក្តីជំនឿរបស់នាងជាញឹកញាប់នាងបានចែករំលែកភាពឯកោរបស់នាងជាមួយខ្ញុំ។ ថ្ងៃមួយពេលដែលនាងហាក់ដូចជាខ្សោយជាងធម្មតា, ខ្ញុំបានសួរនាងថាតើមានអ្វីដែលនាងចង់ – ទឹក, តន្ត្រី, អធិស្ឋាន, បូជាចារ្យ។ នាងសម្លឹងមកខ្ញុំដោយស្នាមញញឹមនិងការចង្អុលទៅរូបសំណាករបស់នាងម៉ារីដែលនៅលើព្យួរអង្កាំ rosary Theresa របស់។