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Our Home, Their Castle
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Sister Penelope in Expectation
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Covering the Cover: Educating Humans
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The Most Valuable Joads
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Timber Framing with Teenagers
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Iron Sharpens Iron
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Grand Canyon Classroom
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The Homeschooling Option
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Teaching the One Percent
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Educating for Freedom
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Why I Became a Firefighter
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The School that Escaped to the Alps
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Does Teaching Literature and Writing Have a Future?
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Schools for Philosopher-Carpenters
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Deerassic Park
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Why We’re Failing to Pass on Christianity
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For the Love of Public School Teaching
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Let Children Play
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The Music on Mount Sinai
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The Green Paint Incident
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How Math Makes You a Better Person
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The Reluctant Goddess and the Roasted Hogs
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Should I Read Scary Fairy Tales to My Child?
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Lernvergnügenstag: A Day for the Joy of Learning
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Freedom of Speech Under Threat
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Poem: “A Meditation on Figs”
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Poem: “Hearing a Lecture on the Mandelbrot Set”
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We’re Alone Together
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Poem: “On Raphael’s La Disputa del Sacramento”
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Disagreeing Respectfully
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The Jakob Hutter Story
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Readers Respond
Free Care and Prayer
Local volunteers run a small clinic for the uninsured.
By Coretta Thomson
December 3, 2024
It’s 8:45 on a Saturday morning, and I’m in the waiting room of a small-town primary care clinic in Orange County, New York. I’m sitting with the other staff, praying aloud in Spanish for God to be with us as we work. I’ve done this before with the pastor, doctor, and other nurses, but it’s the first time that two students from a nearby medical school have come to help direct patients and observe the doctor. We have introduced ourselves, exchanged jokes, and become a team.
Soon the adult patients will arrive for their scheduled appointments. As they wait, the pastor will chat with them about fútbol, help them fill out paperwork, lend a listening ear, or tell them where the nearest church of their denomination is located. Soon I’ll be taking basic vitals, or perhaps translating for the doctor as he spends half an hour on a follow-up appointment that includes thoughtful questions about the well-being of the patient’s family. Before they leave, the patients will receive the medications they need for the next month or two and, if needed, a prescription for a test at a nearby hospital.
None of these patients have health insurance. And none of them pay a cent for their care.
Christ Health Care Ministry (CHCM) was born in 2010 when Dr. Juan Goyzueta and Dr. Samuel Mark, both first-generation Americans and committed Christians, wanted to help uninsured workers in their neighborhood who were often faced with the choice of paying the bills or receiving health care. Today, CHCM runs two primary care clinics, one in Sullivan County and one in Orange County, on alternating Saturdays. Thanks to supporters in the local hospital network, they are able to access a wide range of specialists and services at a generous discount. Every six months, patients in the lowest income brackets apply for the hospital’s assistance. The rest of the cost is covered by local churches. These donations also fund the purchase of standard medications – which a local pharmacy sells them at cost – and the equipment patients need: an automatic blood pressure cuff, a wheelchair, even an external glucose-monitoring system.
The volunteer staff come from many local denominations. “We try to be instruments that God can use to fight human pain,” says Gilbert Varela, CHCM’s executive director and a pastor from Goshen Christian Reformed Church who volunteers regularly. Of course, that pain may be emotional or spiritual as well as physical, so he tries to attend to those needs. Above all, he wants to show patients that they are loved, respected, and valued.
Most, but not all, of the patients are Spanish-speaking immigrants who work long hours at physically demanding jobs. Many appear far older than they are. Our small talk, often interspersed with jokes and laughter, circles around fútbol and food, kids and extended family. We often discuss faith as well. Some even ask for prayers. Many patients have received their primary care here for years, some for over a decade. When one patient, a not-actually-so-old man, “retires” back to his home country, the parting is bittersweet: we’re glad he can see his family and – we hope – be able to rest, but how much has changed during his thirty years abroad?
Varela recalls a memorable patient, a young man who had lost the use of his limbs after several weeks in a coma. He had, in fact, been taken off life support, but then miraculously regained consciousness. Lacking insurance, he had to leave the hospital as soon as possible. Luckily, his sister knew of CHCM. After attending to his medical needs, staff prayed over him at each appointment, “because God can do what even medicine can’t,” the pastor explained. When, after a few months, the young man exceeded everyone’s expectations and recovered control of his upper body and some feeling in his feet, he returned to his country of origin.
A lack of regular volunteers is the main reason more clinics have not opened. But, Varela reminds me, the entire support network is essential: people who pray for the clinic, donate money, secure a discount for its goods and services, act as pro bono consultants, or support the volunteers’ families. Although CHCM’s primary means of promotion, both for attracting patients and recruiting help, is word of mouth, this has been enough to sustain and grow the mission, which ticks along in relative anonymity. The staff prefer this arrangement. God’s work continues, quietly and unglamorously, year by year, helping hard-working folks to continue caring for their families and contributing to society.
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