Tonight, as I stopped to grab dinner, a simple exchange turned into something much deeper. A woman standing there began to share openly about her struggle with an autoimmune illness. With her boyfriend by her side, she confessed through tears that the pain, limitations, and uncertainty of her condition have sometimes left her not wanting to live. Her hands are buckled, her fingers painfully stuck, and even the simple act of trying to unfold them brings agony.
Her boyfriend looked at me and said, “You’re kind of my peace today. I’m so scatterbrained with everything going on, but you’re giving me a sense of calm.” That struck me—how in the middle of struggle, the smallest interactions can carry such weight.
I told them I would reach out to physician and hospital friends I know, to see if I could learn more about her symptoms and possible treatments. Because when you don’t have resources, when you don’t know who to talk to, you can feel isolated and powerless. Sometimes the greatest help we can give is to leverage what we have—relationships, knowledge, access—to bring clarity and hope.
But more than that, I looked her in the eye and told her that her life has value and purpose. At those words, she broke into tears. And in that moment, I realized again that gratitude isn’t just about what we have; it’s about the help we can be.