Between my broken Chichewa and their broken English, in five years we haven’t exchanged more than a few words. Still, these four kids have brought me through more than they will ever know.
“Grace, Malifa, Roderick, Alec. Grace, Malifa, Roderick, Alec. Grace, Malifa, Roderick, Alec. Grace, Malifa, Roderick, Alec.”
I’ve whispered their names to myself over and over through the years. On the start line before soccer fitness tests, in the waiting room before the MCAT, before endless medical school interviews, in the 26th mile of marathons, at my grandfather’s side. Their names are strength. Their names are humility. Their names are grace.
I wonder if these kids know how many lives they’ve changed, just by being who they are. Grace will never know that millions of Americans saw her smile on Good Morning America this past year. The twins will never know that their smiling faces have had an audience with the directors of global health institutes across the United States. Their family will never know what enormous strength they have shared with my family.
These kids are a reminder of why I ever began this crazy pursuit of a medical degree. It’s easy to lose sight. Their names bring be back to where I started. Grace, Malifa, Roderick, Alec. With those kids by my side, I can do anything.
“One voice can change a room; and if a voice can change a room, it can change a city; and if it can change a city it can change a state; and if change a state, it can change a nation; and if it can change a nation, it can change the world.” (courtesy of Daniel Nesbit)
*More on global health technologies next week.