There was a story of a little girl named Liza who was suffering
from a disease and needed blood from her five-year-old
brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and
had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness.
The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and
asked the boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his
sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a
deep breath and saying,
“Yes, I’ll do it if it will save Liza.”
As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister
and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her
cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He
looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, “Will
I start to die right away?” Being young, the boy had
misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to
give her all his blood.
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