How many of you out there love going to the hospital? No? No one? Well, I feel the same. I hate being hospitalized. The sterile sheets and ugly wallpaper, the too bright lights and constant beeping of heart monitors -- I hate it all. Wanna know the worst part though? The cold. Despite --or perhaps as a result of -- having grown up with Michigan weather (all you Michiganians know what I’m talking about), I absolutely despise being cold. I hate turning control of my body over to the wretched shivers and hate huddling in front of fires in a pointless attempt to warm up. The cold in hospitals is artificial rather than natural. Somehow, the artificiality of it makes worse, colder and harsher. The shivers overcome your body, making you even more miserable than you already are. A hospital should be warm and comforting; it should be like the porridge Goldilocks stole -- not too hot, not too cold, but just right.

Some of you may be wondering what this has to do with this week’s kindness prompt. Is she going off on a tangent? Did she forget? Well, let me put your doubts to rest. This brief introduction is the background to my life. I was born with asthma which was only worsened by our two cats. Up until I was about nine or so, I got pneumonia nearly every winter. Most of the time it was mild enough that I could recover at home with prescription drugs; however, hospitalization was occasionally required. After nine, I had a few blissful, problem free years. Until I hit fifth grade, that is, and started getting migraines bad enough that I was often hospitalized.

My various visits to the hospital blur together; the sounds and noises and people all become one, though one thing sticks out in my mind -- warm blankets. I can recall being covered up with warm blankets, shielded from the chaos of the emergency room, able to escape into a blissful sleep. Whenever a nurse or whoever covered me with a blanket all I could think of was the little green alien guys from Toy Story saying, “We are eternally grateful.” I know the hospital workers were just doing their jobs, but this small gesture of kindness helped to comfort a scared little girl -- and even a teenager -- in pain.

Blankets, for me, have always been a source of comfort. Being able to curl up under blankets, even on the hottest of nights, has always soothed me, comforted me. For me, every blanket was a security blanket. This small act of kindness displayed by nurses who are “just doing their jobs” toward not only me but every person in the hospital has surely comforted many a sick child, teenager, and adult. The fear associated with hospital visits is soothed away, at least for the most part. Under the warm, heavy security of a blanket, nothing can harm you. Warmth overpowers cold, and security overcomes fear. This act of kindness, seen all over the world, is one worthy of recognition. As cliché as it is, sometimes it’s the smallest of acts that make the biggest impact.