As a nurse, accompanying and caring for forcibly displaced Afghan children, youth and members of their families, makes me feel at peace with myself. It enables me to focus on what is required when I attend to a particular responsibility. I have known this deeply felt sense of fulfilment and gratitude about working with vulnerable and suffering persons ever since I started my journey as a nurse, some 50 years ago.

 

Hence, that God-incident that called me to Afghanistan shortly after retirement, in 2012, found me ready to volunteer with JRS for a year or so. Seven years later my friends wonder what makes me stay committed in the face of so much hostility, injustice and suffering in my working context.

 

The answer lies in JRS providing a healing space, which makes me feel validated when I nurse sick or injured children, teach health to adults who have missed out on education, or when I give women and youth an opportunity to express themselves through painting. Through such shared endeavours my students/patients and I learn to understand each other’s narratives and life-scripts even without understanding each other’s language. We recognise how lived or witnessed experiences of vulnerability (loss, grief, continuous existential uncertainty) converge into something beyond isolated incidents, and gain meaning at a deeper level. They make us feel that as human beings we are wounded storytellers and, by listening to each other’s narratives, at the same time and in our own way also wounded healers. Caring becomes mutual when those for whom I am here begin gently helping me to help them. Sharing healing tasks, and at times even overcoming challenges, sustains our resilience, resourcefulness and inspiration.