English Original
It was well after midnight. Wrapped in my warm fleecy robe, I stood silently staring out the ninth-floor window of the daunting New York hospital at the 59th Street Bridge, sparkling like a Christmas tree. New York had always been special to me. "This is what the city is supposed to be about," I thought, dreading the morning and all its uncertainty.
The morning came. On March 17th, I was wheeled into surgery. Nearly twelve hours later, I was in recovery. Soon after, I was on my feet in my room, half-walking, half-propelled by medical equipment and family, ordered to walk the long hospital corridor.
It was then I first saw him. Through a haze of drugs and pain, he stood in a doorway. In my twilight state, he seemed more a spirit than a person, yet his body language radiated sympathy and encouragement.
For the next three weeks, this was my routine. As I grew stronger, he would be there, smiling and nodding as I passed with my family. On the fourth week, walking alone, I stopped at his doorway. He was a slender, dark-complexioned man. He introduced me to his wife and his listless teenage son in the bed. The next day, he walked with me. He explained they had come from Iran to this "hospital of hope" for their son. Things were not going well. He told me how my first painful walk had encouraged him, and how he was rooting for me. For weeks, we shared conversations, each giving the other the gift of caring and friendship. He found joy in seeing my family rally around me; I felt sadness for his family's lonely struggle far from home.
Miraculously, the day came when I was to be discharged. I told him that night. The next morning, he came to my room. I was dressed in a bright yellow dress that gave me hope. We talked. I promised to pray for his son. He thanked me but shrugged, his gesture heavy with hopelessness. We knew we would never meet again in this world. In his sorrow, he was happy for me. I felt his love. He took my hand and said, "You are my sister." I answered, "You are my brother." He turned and left.
My family came to retrieve me. After goodbyes from the staff, I was leaving the room I had entered with such trepidation seven and a half weeks before.
As I turned toward the elevator, my brother stood in his doorway, smiling, nodding, and giving his blessing.
Fourteen years have passed since that surgery. Much has happened in the world since our farewell. Yet I think of him often; he is in my heart as I feel I am in his. I remember his intense, dark brown eyes as we pledged ourselves as siblings. In that moment, I knew the Spirit of God hovered over us, blessing us with the knowledge that we are all one.
I have often pondered why we meet our dearest friends or bond so deeply when we are most vulnerable. I believe it is because in times of crisis—facing illness, loss, or catastrophe—we shed all pretense. Our hearts and souls open, and we accept the love and kindness of others as freely and thankfully as children do. This love is blind to race, color, and creed. It is a pair of dark brown eyes seeking a pair of very blue eyes, pledging a love that lasts through time.
中文翻译
午夜已过许久。我裹着温暖的羊毛袍，静静站在令人望而生畏的纽约医院九楼窗边，凝视着第59街大桥，它像圣诞树一样闪闪发光。纽约对我而言一直很特别。"这才是这座城市应有的样子，"我想着，同时恐惧着即将到来的早晨及其所有的不确定性。
早晨还是来了。3月17日，我被推进手术室。近十二小时后，我进了恢复室。不久，我在自己的病房里下了地，半走半靠医疗器械和家人搀扶，遵医嘱在长长的医院走廊里行走。
就在那时，我第一次看见他。透过药物和疼痛的迷雾，他站在一间病房的门口。在我朦胧恍惚的状态下，他更像一个幽灵而非真人，但他的肢体语言却散发着同情与鼓励。
接下来的三周，这成了我的日常。随着我体力恢复，每当我与家人经过时，他总会在那里微笑点头。第四周，我独自行走时，在他的门口停了下来。他是个身材修长、肤色黝黑的男子。他向我介绍了他的妻子和病床上无精打采的十几岁的儿子。第二天，他陪我走回房间。他解释说，他们从伊朗来到这家"希望医院"为儿子治病。情况并不乐观。他告诉我，我最初痛苦的行走如何鼓舞了他，他又是如何为我加油。几周里，我们交谈不断，彼此馈赠关怀与友谊的礼物。他看到我的家人围绕着我感到欣慰；我则为这个远离家乡的小家庭的孤独挣扎感到悲伤。
奇迹般地，我出院的日子到了。那晚我告诉了他。第二天早上，他来到我的房间。我穿着一件给我希望的亮黄色连衣裙。我们聊了聊。我答应为他的儿子祈祷。他感谢我，但耸了耸肩，这个动作充满了绝望。我们知道此生不会再相见。身处悲伤，他却为我感到高兴。我感受到了他的爱。他握住我的手说："你是我的妹妹。"我回答："你是我的哥哥。"他转身离开了。
我的家人来接我。与医护人员道别后，我离开了那个七个半星期前我满怀恐惧走进的房间。
当我转身走向电梯时，我的哥哥站在他的门口，微笑着，点着头，给予他的祝福。
自那次手术以来，十四年过去了。自从我们告别后，世界发生了许多事。但我时常想起他；他在我心中，我也感到我在他心中。我记得我们结为兄妹时，他那双深邃的深棕色眼睛。在那一刻，我知道上帝之灵笼罩着我们，赐福我们，让我们明白我们本是一体。
我常思索，为何我们总是在最脆弱的时候遇见最亲爱的朋友或与他人缔结深厚的情谊。我相信这是因为在危机时刻——面对疾病、失去或灾难时——我们卸下了所有伪装。我们的心扉敞开，我们像孩子一样自由而感恩地接受他人的爱与善意。这种爱无视种族、肤色和信仰。那是一双深棕色的眼睛寻找一双湛蓝的眼睛，许下一份穿越时光的爱的誓言。