As hospital clowns, we perform for an audience whose challenges range from chapped lips to terminal illness. Naturally, this brings up a mix of emotions, both good and bad. Looking over notes I sent to my colleagues over the years, I recently found myself reflecting on the feelings I’ve experienced over the years.
We were happy when we learned that a baby we knew was going to get a new heart.
We were proud when we saw her after she received the new heart.
Sad was how we felt when we thought about where the new heart had come from.
Crushed described us as the doctors took the girl with the new heart off the machine and she died.
I know that when we accept all these feelings, we get wonderful inspiration and renewed commitment to our work.
And we get joy. Plenty of it. It comes in many ways, but sometimes as scribbles crayoned by little people who don’t even know how to write (that doesn’t stop them from adding their “John Hancock” to these masterpieces.) So every time I put on my clown feet, I remember: These shoes carry miles of smiles!