Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at Stanford Hospital, I got to know
a little girl named Liza who was suffering from a rare and serious disease. Her
only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her
five-year-old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had
developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the
situation to her little brother, and asked the boy if he would be willing to
give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking
a deep breath and saying, "Yes, I'll do it if it will save Liza." As the
transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all
did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his
smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will
I start to die right away?" Being young, the boy had misunderstood the doctor;
he thought he was going to have to give her all his blood.
Author unknown. If anyone has a proprietary interest in this story please
authenticate and I will be happy to credit, or remove, as the circumstances
dictate.
Thanks to Sherry's Inspirational list
SMKeith@aol.com
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