Kathleen E. Jones, Freelance Writer

Christmas in July | Chicken Soup for the Soul

He pushed the button as he smiled back at me with blue eyes that sparkled. He had no hair, and his mouth was covered with a paper mask. He wasn’t from my floor . . . the masks on my floor were oxygen masks, and they still had their own hair. As a pediatric nurse in a pediatric hospital these sights were a common and accepted part of my job. “Thank goodness for air-conditioning!” I said loudly to the receptionist in the lobby. She nodded in agreement as she answered a call and I got onto the ele

51: Being a Hospital Mom | Chicken Soup for the Soul

Chris had a lot of difficulty walking because of his physical handicaps. When I went on errands, I pulled him in a red wagon. He talked to everyone along the way, gave directions to new families, and made sure everybody in the hospital knew who he was, from the administrators to the housekeepers. Once he learned your name he never forgot it. He would call for staff by name, and explain exactly what he wanted from them. He had learned that to survive long periods of time in the hospital he had to