Father's Day

I had my first shift on the new unit today. I expected chaos, but there was significantly less of it than I anticipated.

Instead, I sat with a little girl who was devastated that he wasn't able to spend Father's Day with his dad. She sat there, silent and still, clutching a hand-drawn card in both of her small hands. Her lower lip trembled, her shoulders were hunched. She was not in my group; I didn't even know her name. But I sat with her, talked to her about her drawings, which slowly began to turn into a conversation about her favorite kinds of shows and movies. She began to smile, just a little. Five, maybe ten minutes passed, and I had to rejoin my group. I glanced back, and she was gone--back to her group, sorrow lessened somewhat.

Someone told me once that "taking care is a cure." Looking back, I realize it's true. To take a little bit of time out of your day to brighten someone else's will only serve to bring you joy. Seeing a faint smile on her pale face made me smile in return. By the time that I return to that unit, that little girl will probably be gone, sent back out into the world. But maybe she'll remember that one moment someone took the time to talk to her, to share with her a little encouragement. As always, I hope she does so well in life as to forget me, but I would like her to remember my actions, and, maybe one day, reach out to a hurting person herself, and brighten another's day just a little. I hope this little girl one day learns to care for others as others have cared for her.

If you ask me, that would be the greatest gift any father could ask for.