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Show 204 Hope Bear They are standing there at the foot of my bed looking uncertain, shifting from one foot to the other, throwing and catching glances to and from each other. This is unusual because they have each been my nurse from time to time, many times during this hospital stay, and there is no real reason for uncertainty now, at the end of my stay. They are both good nurses. And I am going home soon. "Here," Da^rj,is saying, removing a wrapped package from behind her back and handing it to me. "This is for you." There is a card attached and I am reading that Dawn is leaving this hospital, moving to another state. She does not want to go forgotten. And she does want me to remember to have hope. At all times, to have hope. I am looking up at their smiling at my surprise as I tear the paper from the gift and remove from the packaging a small stuffed brown bear. There is a pink ribbon tied around its neck and a name tag reading "Hope" attached to the ribbon. Hope Bear. Dawn's mother, she is telling me, had breast cancer and someone gave her a Hope Bear to help her through. She has survived four years so far, with Hope at her side. |