When it comes to unidentifiable incoming phone calls, Ill admit Im wary to answer them. I feel distrust, even fear, of the unknown caller. Some menacing stranger may be on the other end, poised to steal my identity or my money.

Last June my cell phone blinked with just such a number, the call originating in Lewiston, Idaho. I decided to let it ring, but at the last minute chose to pick up the call. On the other end wasnt a scary monster, but rather a nurse named Morla.

Morla works for the health insurance company Regence Blue Cross as a case manager. At first I was suspicious of her offer to help me. How much was this going to cost? Morla assured me her services were free. I had recently been diagnosed with breast cancer. I expected Morla to be all business, laying out deductibles, covered and not covered expenses, and procedural paper work. After all, she worked for an insurance company. Instead, I was greeted by a woman who truly cared about me. She answered all my questions, and the questions she couldnt answer immediately, she did so within a day. She called me almost daily to see how I was doing, both physically and mentally. For five months, she figuratively held my hand through biopsies, surgery, wound care, and more. Our last conversation was bittersweet. I was happy that my ordeal was considered over by the insurance company, but sad to say goodbye to Morla.

Morla was a stranger who chose to reach out and take care of me. She didnt know anything about me my politics, religious preferences, or sexual orientation. And it was clear that being a Regence Blue Cross case manager was much more than a job to her.

Other strangers reached out to me as well. Women from The Pink Project, a The Dalles group that supports women with cancer, made me soft blankets and a hat and gifted me with relaxing music, chocolates, and other items to pamper me. Finally, there was Earline, a fellow yoga student who happened to lay her yoga mat next to mine. I know little about Earline, other than that shes as tall as me, plays tennis, and has a lilting accent that sounds like its roots are in the deep south. Two weeks before my surgery, while attending yoga class, I began to weep quietly, overwhelmed by thoughts related to my cancer. At the end of class, Earline approached me, gave me a hug, and said simply, You are adored.

Saying You are adored to a near stranger is very different than when someone says I love you, I care about you, or I adore you. Those statements can seem too personal or too trite. For me, on that day, You are adored felt like the whole planet cared about me, and cared about what was happening to me. It was a magnificent feeling.

I read with two Mid Valley kindergarteners each week as part of the SMART reading program. Two weeks ago, I saw them for the first time since early December. Winter vacation and the winter snows had kept us apart for those weeks. As Nancy, a particularly exuberant 5-year old, entered the room, she rushed towards me, arms apart, and said Teacher, I missed you! I dont know much about Nancy, nor does she know much about me. Shes simply my weekly reading buddy. As an English language learner, I doubt shes ever heard or seen the word adore. Still, on that wintery afternoon, her body and voice confirmed to me that I am adored.

At a time when the fearmongers are determined to escalate our collective paranoia, we need to work hard to stem our fear of the unknown. Im as guilty as anyone of diverting my eyes when passing a homeless camp, being wary of a stranger approaching my door, or deciding not to answer the telephone. A dear friend of mine volunteers at the warming shelter, and tells me about the wonderful discussions she has with the homeless who take shelter from the cold each night. She may not tell them, You are adored, but she sincerely communicates, You are cared for; you are listened to.

On this upcoming Valentines Day, lets celebrate the triumph of love over fear. Answer the phone or stop on the street, and without hesitation, tell a stranger, You are adored.

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Cascade Observations: 'You are adored' - Hood River News