An Old Man in Soiled Pants

An Old Man in Soiled Pants

Laslo Medyesy – Hungary
The largest public hospital in Budapest occupies a massive gray building; it’s a rundown eyesore, an ugly leftover from the Socialist period. Here in the emergency ward a cadre of doctors and nurses treat the endless line of sufferers provided day and night by the city of two million. With sirens and lights on, ambulances arrive nonstop, and the staff hurry to treat the latest victims of misfortune.

The largest public hospital in Budapest occupies a massive gray building; it’s a rundown eyesore, an ugly leftover from the Socialist period. Here in the emergency ward a cadre of doctors and nurses treat the endless line of sufferers provided day and night by the city of two million. With sirens and lights on, ambulances arrive nonstop, and the staff hurry to treat the latest victims of misfortune.

The young doctor interrupted our discourse: “Sorry, he said I must go. A bleeder is coming in, and requires immediate attention.” I went with him to the receiving area.. Two male nurses were just rolling in on a squeaky stretcher an old, slight man. His narrow face was covered with blood, his clothing crumpled and muddy, with shaking hands he was still grabbing a plastic bag containing a few empty bottles.

The intake worker fired some rapid questions at the ambulance crew:

“What happened?”

“He was pushed from behind and fell on the pavement, breaking his nose and jaw.”
”Can he talk?”

“Yes, but he only repeats the same, that he must return the empty bottles.”

“Identification?”

“Negative, just an old man in soiled pants. (Obviously the trauma of the accident had caused him to wet himself.)

Taking a few hesitant steps toward the stretcher, “I know him!” I yelled in astonishment.

Everybody in the busy room stopped, all eyes looked at me: “Well, tell us then who is this man?”

Struggling with emotions I said: “Well, he is a Doctor of Theology, a retired University professor of the Classical Greek language, an internationally recognized scholar of Antiquity. Author of many books. Recipient of …” I stopped.

The stunning silence was broken by the voice of the doctor turning to the sufferer: “Don’t be afraid Sir. We will take care of you.”

A few days later I visited him in a church related convalescent home, where he lived alone surrounded by his beloved books. “Dear friend,” he said, “it is too painful to live. I want to be with the Lord. My work has been done, I’m ready to go.”

When I stopped in there again his room was vacant. No books on the shelves. He was gone, gone to a place where no one is named “an old man in soiled pants,” or even “professor of theology” but, “good and faithful servant.”

Laslo Medyesy
Laslo Medyesy is a missionary with the Reformed Church in Hungary, based in Budapest, Hungary. He serves as professor of theology in the Department of Theology of the Gaspar Karoli Reformed University in Budapest.