Artigo Acesso aberto Revisado por pares

Greener, Brighter

2017; Lippincott Williams & Wilkins; Volume: 92; Issue: 6 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1097/acm.0000000000001712

ISSN

1938-808X

Autores

Rachel R. Bian, Andrew H. Zureick, Robert S. Porter,

Resumo

I step away from the sterile angels with their stiff white coats. Their eyes spoke for them, their eyes and the words they did not say. I frighten them. I remind them that they wear no halo, they hold no magic wand, no silver bullets in their pockets, not today. I step across the threshold, through the door standing ajar. Everything looks different—the chair stands too straight, the counter sits too high, the lamp lies in shadow. I step back out, beyond the front porch. There are eyes everywhere, curious eyes, eyes that ask but that don't want an answer, eyes that hold a gavel in their depths. Caverns that I am afraid to walk toward. Will you close your eyes for a moment? Will you listen? I am more than a survivor. Do you hear the strength in my voice? My words echo with the conviction of waterfalls. Are you listening? Now open your eyes. See me for who I am, not what I seem. What I seem is a patch of land broken by the plow of fire. What I am is a forest. While the fire passes, once, twice, once again, the forest remains. My roots are still here. My heart is still here. I may not be as tall as I once was, but now I am greener, brighter. I embrace my new life—my crooked chair, my shorter table. I step away from the caverns, into the sunshine.

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