At first I was surprised that people with the same disease had such very different stories.Later I became deeply moved by these stories, by the people and the meaning they found in their problems, by the unsuspected strengths, the depths of love and devotion, the rich and human tapestry initiated by the pathology I was studying and treating. . .These stories engaged me at another, more hidden point.I too suffer from an illness . . . I listened to human beings who were suffering, and responding to their suffering in ways as unique as their fingerprints.Their stories were inspiring moving, important.In time, the truth in them began to heal me.
The work has been no different since the beginning,
the thin golden thread through the chaos,
the dimly lit path through the valley,
the hand in the night:
to trust the Giver of Life in the darkness,
to trust the goodness buried in the terrible moment,
in every awful passage, every ending,
to receive the love that is given.
The test is only clearer in dark times,
to see the hollow illusion of princes
and forego their poisoned promises,
to come into this day in the name of the Holy One,
not in the thrall of our fears.