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当一位年轻的母亲知道自己的生命之火即将熄灭时，她选择用另一种方式陪伴她的孩子走过成长之路…… The bustle of the hospital was a welcome distraction as I opened my new patient’s chart and headed for her room.[1] My son, Eric, had just brought home a disappointing report card, and my daughter, Shannon, and I had argued again about her getting a driver’s license.[2] For the next eight hours I wanted to throw myself into helping people who I knew had much more to worry about than I did. Rebekah was only 32, admitted for chemotherapy[3] after breast-cancer surgery. When I entered her room it took me a moment to spot her amid the bouncing forms of three giggling little girls.[4] I told Rebekah I would be her nurse and she introduced her husband, Warren; six-year-old Ruthie; four-year-old Hannah; and two-year-old Molly. Warren coaxed[5] the girls away from their mother with a promise of ice cream and assured Rebekah they would return the next day. As I rubbed alcohol on her arm to prepare it for the intravenous line[6], Rebekah laughed nervously. “I have to tell you I’m terrified of needles.” “It’ll be over before you know it,” I said. “I’ll give you a count of three.” Rebekah shut her eyes tightly and murmured a prayer until it was over. Then she smiled and squeezed my hand. “Before you go, could you get my Bible from the table?” I handed her the worn[7] book. “Do you have a favorite Bible verse?” she asked. “Jesus wept. John 11: 35.” “Such a sad one,” she said. “Why?” | 
