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
disease and needed a blood transfusion from her five-year-old brother.
He 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
Being young, the boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought
he was going to have to give her all his blood.
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