Two days ago, as I waited anxiously outside Charity's ICU room, the man in the room next to hers gestured in my direction. I glanced around--sure he was beckoning someone else. After realizing there was no else around, I walked over to his bedside. He seemed be about sixty. He was very thin, had short salt and pepper hair, and wore an over-sized hospital gown which revealed a large scar across his chest. As soon as I walked over, he clasped my hand and gave me a huge, warm smile. Without any words, he explained that--because of the ventilator--he couldn't speak. Instead, he traced a little message onto the palm of my right hand, one letter at a time.


In the midst of his recovery, this dear man went out of his way to reassure me. I was overwhelmed - and I can still hardly believe his generosity. The interaction was brief, but so kind, so selfless, and so unexpected. It was one of the sweetest encounters I've ever had.

During the last weeks, countless people have clasped my hands and reassured me in their own way - like the elderly man who brought his Newfoundland to the hospital to greet and comfort anyone in need of a furry friend, and the family of another patient who shared the special fudge her friends sent, and the children of a respiratory therapist who made Charity "Get Well" cards. And, of course, all of you. We are so grateful for the kindness.
It has been a beautiful and humbling thing to witness.