The Hymn at the Hospice

I was volunteering at a hospice in Albuquerque, sitting with a woman in her final hours. She was unconscious and had been for two days. I did not know her faith tradition, did not know her at all really. I did not know what to do so I just began humming softly — an old hymn from my childhood, the first thing that came to me. The woman's breathing, which had been labored and irregular, became slow and peaceful within minutes. She passed quietly two hours later. Her daughter, who arrived just before the end, grabbed my hand afterward and said that hymn had been her mother's favorite since childhood. I had not known. I had just hummed what came.