Snow speckles the night sky. A light wind stirs a row of evergreens that line the parking lot sprinkling flakes on the faces of the few cars that remain.

   Inside an Ohio hospice seventeen-year-old Anna lives into the last hours of her life. There is no curing her. No opportunities remain to "fix" the cancer that has stolen so much of her body.  No one speaks anymore about additional chemotherapy or radiation or surgery.

   What remains is a last chance for healing. 

   Caregivers and family circle the young woman's bed. Anna's last wish has been that she live until her eighteenth birthday, now just hours away.

   Healing is the highest form of caregiving. But can any healing happen in the last few hours before death?

   The rattling sound the mourners hear is not a branch scratching the window. It is Anna's labored breathing.

   A caregiver suggests to the family that the semi-conscious Anna can probably hear them. She encourages them to say whatever they want to her.

   Her sister steps forward and whispers in her ear. Her father says, out loud, "I love you Anna." Her brother holds her hand and strokes her forehead. Her mother puts a favorite stuffed toy by her daughter's side. Her best friend stands at Anna's feet. Tears stain her face. Nearby, Rusty, the hospice dog, dozes.

   Everyone watches the clock.

   The doctors had predicted Anna would die six months earlier. Anna would hear none of it. "I want to live to my eighteenth birthday," she repeated over and over.

   At midnight, Anna's mother leans close enough to her daughter to hear faint breaths.

  "Happy 18th Birthday, sweetheart."

   A slight smile crosses Anna's face.  

   She is pronounced dead at 12:05 a.m.

   This story has become legendary at that hospice. It is a tribute to the will to live, not the will to die. It is a testament, as well, to the healing that went on in that room.

   With her courage and grace, Anna first broke and then healed the hearts of those around her. The circle of loved ones healed each other – more uplifted then broken – as they spoke afterwards of the mysterious beauty of Anna's parting.

   No one understands the difference between curing and healing better than the caregivers at the world's hospices. Assigned patients who all have terminal illness, the caregiver's goal is not to cure but to comfort, not to fix but to love.

   Hospice workers apply their caregiver skills to bring healing not only up to the end, but to the families who grieve afterwards. They ensure that no patient dies in pain, that none die alone and that family and friends are supported.

   They live Love.

-Erie Chapman