His face was pale, pasty white with black hair shooting out of pores spaced enough apart that one could see red irritated skin vomiting puss.

His speech was hoarse, unfeeling. He spit poison at everyone around him. To his nurse, Tabitha, he would criticize and raise his voice.

She was a young girl with plenty of life ahead of her, and he a older man with cancer. She dreaded his visits and oftentimes he would ruin her day.

So when he dropped his envelope on the way out, she didn’t bother to let him know. But she was curious, so she picked it up, opened the envelope, and began to read:

Hi Dad, the whole family is waiting on you to die. No one cares about your life and your accomplishments. You will not be remembered or missed. There will be no funeral. You have not left an inheritance to anyone. You will be forgotten as soon as you die. This is what you worked for.

It was signed by who the nurse assumed was his daughter.

So the next time the man came in, the nurse stood brave and excepted the hurt spilled upon her from this man. The verbal abuse and sly insults did not deter her from showing kindness, gentleness, and love. When he was leaving, Tabitha stopped him. She told him that she would always remember him as long as she would live. And she asked him what message he would like to deliver to the world as she told others about him.

He answered, if you live for yourself, in the end, you will only have yourself. “So get out my way and you can share the letter you found as well”. And he walked out, never to be seen again.