Often, the simplest questions lead to the greatest moments of reflection and growth. While serving on a recent panel discussion, I was asked how I knew I wanted to be a nurse? The question offered me the opportunity to reflect on the butterfly effect of one nurse’s actions on the future of a teenage girl.

A mother’s sudden illness

I was 17 years old, a junior in high school, and growing increasingly excited about my first prom. The dress was picked out, the makeup decided, and my high school sweetheart (and current husband) had already asked me to be his date. Just prior to the big day, my mother began experiencing worsening headaches and increasingly noticeable vision changes. Though it was originally written off as stress or typical age-related vision changes, an eye appointment for a new prescription quickly led to a neurology consultation. With roughly 50% of my mother’s peripheral vision already gone, scans were ordered, and a craniopharyngioma was discovered.

Suddenly, prom was the last thing on my mind as my mother was admitted to a local cancer hospital for treatment of a large (noncancerous) brain tumor. Her surgery was scheduled for the day of the big dance. Her last words before being wheeled into surgery were, “When I wake up, the first thing I want to see are pictures of how beautiful you looked at the prom.”

The author’s prom photo

Her nurse heard our conversation and saw the uncertainty on my face. She comforted me as I waited alone in that small room. In collaboration with colleagues, she coordinated a trip to the hospital hair salon, a place usually reserved for cancer patients being fitted for wigs. Luckily for me, she discovered that one of the stylists on staff knew how to do formal hairstyles. Payment was taken care of. I was treated like a queen. I recall feeling so special and cared for in the midst of this terrifying experience.

When my mother finally woke up the next day, I had photos to proudly show her of a teenage girl who felt (and looked) like a princess, not because of a crown, but largely because of the kindness and love shown to me by nurses I had only recently met.

The lasting effects of a simple act

As I reflect on it now, I am able to see that my mother’s nurse probably showed up for work that day just like any other; maybe the traffic was bad, or her coffee spilled on the drive to the hospital. That shift was likely one of several that week in which she spent long hours caring for complex patients in the neuro ICU and left exhausted at the end of the day.

For me, however, that day changed everything. It was the day I decided I wanted to become a nurse. One nurse’s simple act of kindness and support became more than a thoughtful gesture. It became a turning point, changing the trajectory of my future. In a moment that could have been overshadowed by fear and uncertainty, her compassion left a lasting imprint on a young girl’s heart, and sparked a desire to show up for others in their most difficult moments, to lead with empathy, and to carry that compassion forward.

Nurses are called to care for their patients, but that calling rarely stops at the bedside. In moments of fear and uncertainty, care often extends to the family members by answering their questions, easing their worries, and offering steady reassurance. What begins as clinical responsibility often becomes compassionate presence, reminding families that they, too, are seen, supported, and not alone.

As nurses, we may forget that it is often the smallest gestures that carry the greatest weight—a warm blanket, a few extra minutes to listen, or arranging a simple kindness for a loved one. Nurses may never fully see the ripple effect of these quiet acts, but their influence extends far beyond the bedside, steadying not only patients but their families during some of the hardest moments of their lives. The work we do as nurses—and our small acts of kindness—matter. My own experience as the daughter of a patient taught me that.

Reflecting on that panel question led me back to those moments of uncertainty surrounding my mother’s health, gratitude for her nurse and access to care, and a renewed awareness of how meaningful small moments can be during what may feel like a typical day at work.

Today, I am fortunate to combine my two passions—education and nursing—as a clinical assistant professor and family nurse practitioner. My enthusiasm and passion for working with students have never waned. I center my work on training empathetic and compassionate new nurses, aiming to cultivate the next generation of nurses who will emulate the same kindness, compassion, and heart of service as the nurse who cared for that scared young girl at her mother’s bedside.

By Bryce Catarelli, DNP, APRN, FNP-C, CNE, clinical assistant professor, University of Florida College of Nursing.

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