Sister Jean Thinks About the Man Who Died

Sister Jean sits on the subway
With her head down

She's thinking
About the man who died

Lying in the street
With the sirens
Still blocks away

She felt him pass

It was not the first time
Someone had died in front of her

But these were different circumstances

She saw the man
A healthy man, she assumed
Running across the street

When the car hit him
It was almost like a movie

A frame appeared around the edges
Of Sister Jean's vision
And for a moment
She was suspended
Much like the man was
In a surreal point of time

The car stopped immediately
And someone yelled 'Call 9-1-1'

But Jean just felt herself slowly move over to the man
Who was lying on the street much like the way
One might be laid out in a coffin

She knelt down next to him
And closed her eyes

'You sayin' a prayer, sister?'

Jean looked down at the man
And found he was looking up at her

'An ambulance is on the way,' she said
'I'm not going to need it, sister.'

There's no fooling
A dying man

'What kind of prayer were you saying?'
'Just a prayer for peace.'
'Can I hear it?'

So Sister Jean said her prayer out loud
For the man

Speaking the words
She found herself feeling foolish
And then she questioned
Why she would feel that way

Wasn't that what she was supposed to do?
Say these words with some sort of sincerity?

She had never had any trouble with faith
And she wasn't sure that was what she was having now
But she certainly felt uncomfortable

She realized how many of her prayers
Had been given to silence

Despite her lack of confidence
When she was finished
The man said--

'Thank you, sister.  That was very nice.'

He sounded like one of her old teachers in school
Complimenting her on a correctly spelled word

Then he closed his eyes
And that was that

She sat with him until the paramedics
Put him in the back of the ambulance

Then she stood on the side of the street
And waited
Until the ambulance drove off
The passerby dispersed
And the street cleared itself
Of the memory
Of the man and the car

As she sat on the subway
She thought about the man who died

Where had he been going?
Who would have to be called?
What more could she have done?

Was it wrong to want to stand and wait
For the city to reset itself?

As she sat, she overheard a young man
Talking to a homeless person
Claiming to be a genie

The homeless genie offered the young man wishes
And the man only asked for one
Something for his little brother

A good thing does not replace a bad thing
A good intention does not eliminate the memory
Of a man dying on the street

But Sister Jean couldn't help but be moved
By the young man's wish

She smiled at him as she got off the subway

'You did a good thing,' she said to him

'I did two good things,' he said, 'I cheered you up, right?'


He must have noticed her
Sitting and looking down
Lost like the city
Lost like the man

'Right,' she says

It wasn't entirely true
But she could see it made the young man happy

She got off the subway
And wondered if his wish would come true

She wondered if a wish from a genie
Was stronger than one of her prayers