"Back in Syria, I sold antiques and Orientals. I had all sorts of things in my shop: glass vases, old stamps, coins from the Roman and Ottoman empire, valuable laces, antique furniture. But they beat me with rifles and knocked out my teeth. Then they burned my store to the ground."
(Zaatari Refugee Camp, Jordan)
This is so heartbreaking. A waste of humanity.
You’d be surprised what small, everyday things can lift us out of despair. But nobody can do it for you. You’re the one who has to watch for the open door.
He wanted to draw out the moment before the moment—because as good as kissing feels, nothing feels as
good as the anticipation of it.
As health-care professionals, this is what we have trained for. People often ask why we would chose to care for such high-risk patients. For many of us, that is why we chose this occupation — to care for people in need. Every person involved in the treatment of these two patients volunteered for the assignment. At least two nurses canceled vacations to be a part of this team. They derive satisfaction from knowing that, after years of preparing for this type of case, they are able to help, to comfort and to do it safely. The gratitude they receive from the patients’ families drives their efforts.
As human beings, we all hope that if we were in need of superior health care, our country and its top doctors would help us get better. We can either let our actions be guided by misunderstandings, fear and self-interest, or we can lead by knowledge, science and compassion. We can fear, or we can care.