“Last year I was once again undergoing oncological treatment due to cancer; the second time round was even worst than the first. It was hard to accept this relapse after five years. The eight sessions of chemotherapy  went on for six months, followed by a period of rest so as to be able to continue with the 25 sessions of radiotherapy in a hospital that was around 30 km from my house. Sometimes my friends accompanied me, but often I went alone, bringing with me something to read or any other thing that could take my mind off the the treatment. The second week of treatment I became aware of a Muslim lady who was always seated alone in the waiting room with an expression of infinite sadness on her face. That day I was there for quite a long time and I saw them bring a little five-year old girl on a stretcher which they placed near her. I heard the nurses talking about that child: she was operated on for a brain tumour and now they were treating her with a special type of radiotherapy that obliged her to remain immobile and that is why they had to sedate her. The next day the same scene repeated itself. I observed what was happening and I said to myself that I had to do something. I was embarrassed to approach the mother because she didn’t speak my language well and I was afraid to embarrass her, so I asked the nurse to ask her if she needed anything. I came to know that the child needed a coat and also a stroller would be quite useful for her. I had an almost brand-new stroller which I had set aside for my sister and several coats of my daughter that I was sure would have fitted her! When I arrived home, I prepared everything and I even took some toys. I knew that I was doing all this for Jesus because He himself said: “Every time that you do these things to one of the least of my brothers, you did it to me” (Mt 25, 40).  I brought everything to the nurse. The next day the little girl arrived very happy with her little bag and a doll: it was a great joy to see her show off her “new” things! The mother wanted to get to know me, despite the fact that I wanted to remain anonymous: “Don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing” (Mt 6,3), but, since she was quite insistent, I went over to greet her. It was a very moving moment. She embraced me and thanked me with tears in her eyes. During the five days of my radiotherapy, I sat beside her and we talked a lot. I had embarked on my cancer treatment with anguish and apprehension knowing that after a month and a half my daughter would be having her first communion and I would not have been very presentable. My greatest worry was my hair. Today I thank God for having learned how to forget myself in order to take on the suffering of others, putting aside my own worries.” S.G. (Murcia – Spain)