Good Samaritans


My five nights of journeying from Scotland to the Seminary extracted their cost on my heart, and on Tuesday I knew I needed medical help. What comforted me was reading the Parable of the Good Samaritan: a half dead traveller cared for and cured by a Samaritan.

Dr Luis Horacio’s surgery next door to the Seminary is a kind of all-in-one basic health post that achieves wonders in the barrio but would give an NHS doctor enough cocktail party stories for a lifetime.

The crucifix was behind the doctor’s desk, a rosary hung on the wall, and he carefully examined me, stopped the palpitations and he sent me on my way to hospital for an ECG.

Unfortunately they had finished for the day, however a nurse coming off duty turned round, opened up the ECG room and ran the test: she was a nun.

And now a friend of Manuel’s has kindly arranged for me to queue jump in order to see a top cardio man.

It’s going to be amazing to meet the Good Samaritans in heaven. Thank you Lord for such people. I was jogging up the Volador today.
Photo: Dr Luis Horacio's surgery beside the Seminary

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