Happy National Redhead Day. I’d like to tell you about a redhead I admire.
Her name is Morgan Love. She is 20. Her hair is Little-Orphan-Annie red. Her countenance is Saint Mother Teresa.
She has spent more of her life in a hospital than outside. And yet, I have never seen her complain. She has been on life support more than once. She has cheated death more than anyone I know.
She is a medical student. A Delta Gamma sorority sister (Anchors up!). But because of her health, her life is filled with obstacles.
She receives nutrition via feeding tube, carrying the feeding apparatus in a backpack. And yet, she rarely misses a class. She made the president’s list. She aces every test. If she ever earned a B grade, it would probably kill her.
There is a lot I could tell you about Morgan, but I’ve said it all before. I’ve written about her a lot. There are people all over the nation praying for her.
And each time they pray, their prayers work. Each time she goes into the hospital, the doctors gaze at Morgan and get this serious tone. They prepare her for the worst. They let her know that this hospital stint could be the final curtain.
Then everyone in the room gets quiet, exchanging looks.
Whereas Morgan just smiles and tells the doctor, “Let’s just take it one step at a time.”
She’s frequently out of the hospital in another few days, riding various waterslides, trick-or-treating, or going on National Epilepsy Walks.
My favorite memory of Morgan is when we visited the Tennessee Aquarium. Morgan really wanted to go to the aquarium with us, even though it was against her doctor’s orders.
Her family decided that it was okay, and so Morgan disconnected her feeding tube so she could accompany us on our road trip.
Which meant she would go days without nutrition. But the child is so driven to live life to the fullest, Morgan said heck with it. She fasted for almost three days.
We spent the day walking around the aquarium. She took nothing for granted. She observed the wall-to-wall tanks, staring at the marine wildlife, with a kind of reverence and appreciation I’ve never known.
At some point, we came across an aquarium with a hollowed out place for kids to crawl inside and get their pictures. The photograph would look like the person was inside the aquarium.
“I want my picture inside that!” said Morgan.
A nearby mother looked at Morgan’s frail frame, and cautioned us. “It’s kind of tricky, getting inside. You have to crawl through a tube.”
Morgan cheerfully ignored the woman. She lowered herself onto her half-paralyzed hands and knees and began crawling into the aquarium.
All the parents and children were standing around, watching. Several parents were staring at me with judgmental death stares, as though I had just strangled a puppy.
“She’s hardheaded,” I explained.
And so it was, we all quietly watched a collegiate redhead squirm into the tiny aquarium cubby hole. Morgan then stood inside the aquarium and made a strongman pose.
“See, I did it!” she said.
Everyone applauded.
A nearby mother watched me take Morgan’s picture, and when I finished, she quietly handed me a tissue.