Imagine The Following: It's A Wednesday Night And ...  PRO

Imagine the following: It’s a Wednesday night and you are at a church meeting when somebody runs in from the parking lot and says, "Turn on a radio, turn on a radio." And while the church listens, an announcement is made: "Two women are lying in a hospital dying from a mystery flu." Within hours it seems this thing just sweeps across the country. People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote. Nothing is working.

It’s as though it’s just sweeping in from everywhere. And then, all of a sudden the news comes out. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can be made. It’s going to take the blood of somebody who hasn’t been infected, and so, sure enough, all through different countries channels of emergency are broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple thing: Go to your local hospital and have your blood type taken. That’s all we ask of you. When you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood, please make your way quickly, quietly, and safely to the hospitals.

Sure enough, when you and your family get down there late on that Friday night, there is a long line, and they’ve got nurses and doctors coming out and pricking fingers and taking blood and putting labels on it. Your wife and your children are out there, and they take your blood type and they say, "Wait here in the parking lot and if we call your name, you can be dismissed and go home." You stand around, scared, with your neighbors, wondering what in the world is going on and if this is the end of the world.

Suddenly a young man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He’s yelling a name and waving a clipboard. What? He yells it again! And your son tugs on your jacket and says, Daddy, that’s me. Before you know it, they have grabbed your boy. Wait a minute. Hold on! And they say, "It’s okay, his blood is clean. His blood is pure. We want to make sure he doesn’t have the disease. We think he has the right type."

Five tense minutes later, out come the doctors and nurses, crying and hugging one another- some are even laughing. It’s the first time you have seen anybody laugh in a week, and an old doctor walks up to you and says, "Thank you, sir. Your son’s blood type is perfect. It’s clean, it is pure, and we can make the vaccine." As the word begins to spread all across that parking lot full of folks, people are screaming, praying, laughing and crying. But then the grey-haired doctor pulls you and you wife aside and says, "May we see you for a moment? We didn’t realize that the donor would be a minor and we need, we need you to sign a consent form." You begin to sign and then you see that the number of pints of blood to be taken is empty.

"How many pints?" And that is when the old doctor’s smile fades and he says, "We had no idea it would be little child. We weren’t prepared. We need it all!"

"But...You don’t understand. We are talking about the world here. Please sign. We need it all!"

"But can’t you give him a transfusion?" "If we had clean blood we would. Can you sign? Would you sign?" In numb silence, you do. Then they say,

"Would you like to have a moment...

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