Military, Firefighter, Police, government employee...Nurse?

Finally, public recognition for working as a nurse. Sad that it wasn't for being a nurse, but for working in a Hospital that is primarily funded by the government, but I will take the recognition nonetheless!

Today, my lovely sister and I took a trip to a local, popular museum. Our research told us that we would have enough time to tour the entire museum before closing, if we arrived in the early afternoon. What our research failed to turn-up, was that only a certain number of tickets are distributed each day. We arrived at 2 o'clock, and much to our disappointment, the sign read "Tickets Sold Out For Today."

Because both my sister and I enjoy meeting new people, and striking up conversation with random men, we found ourselves talking with the "Special Police" guard in front of the museum. While deep in conversation about his passion for abstract art and painting, our new friend off-handedly joked that we might get tickets if we bat our eyelashes, or show our disappointment with a few tears, to the man at the ticket counter.

After parting with our friend, and thanking him for the advice, I walked up to the counter to try my luck. Making myself sound as desperate as possible, as if I was dying of a rare illness and my final wish was to see this exhibit, the ticket-man replied with an, "I'm sorry ma'am, unless you are military, a firefighter, police officer, or work for the government, you won't be allowed to enter." I pleaded with him, that I was a nurse, and had just worked the nightshift, and that this time was the earliest I could possibly get here, and that my sister was visiting, and this was the only day we could visit, and blah, blah, blah, and then a little lightbulb lit up in my brain. I do work for the government! My Hospital receives it's funding primarily from the government, based on the population we care for and our location in the city. Eureka! I ran to the car to retrieve my nurses badge for work, and no further dialogue between myself and the ticket-man was needed. He handed me two tickets, with an "enjoy your visit," I skipped off to meet up with my sister, as if I was holding the winning numbers to the State Lottery.

This might seem like a simple and maybe trivial moment in my life. Tickets to a museum exhibit. Tickets that I could just get next week. Yes, it was simple. A simple joy that added a much greater richness to my life, and to my sister's. The time we spent reading about the lives of so may Jews who were tortured and killed in concentration camps across Europe, seeing the horrors that they endured, and hearing first-hand testimonies, was a priceless moment for us today. We met one of the few living survivors while she signed her books for us, and as I looked her in the eye and told her my name, my connection with history became a bit more real, a bit more human.

Thank you to the guard at the museum, thank you to the ticket-man, and thank you to Elly, who have all taught me today, to be a bit more human.