As a very young child, my dad would lie next to me as I was falling asleep, and I would say to him, “Daddy, tell me a story.” It was in those twilight moments when I learned about my dad’s childhood, my grandfather’s bakery, and my aunts and uncles. I believe most of those stories were true, but from time to time, I am sure there were embellishments or made-up stories to intrigue yet soothe me as I found peaceful sleep.

I remain fascinated by stories. Mostly true stories, but sometimes fictional ones (see: Ted Lasso). Stories are how we connect and learn. As a surgeon educator, when I am asked to teach and test, the request is often, “Please provide your evaluation questions in case-based format”, meaning, build a story to help the learner understand the concept in a way that seems relatable; tell the story that they can see themselves in.

I just returned home from a national meeting of one of my beloved societies, The American Association for the Surgery of Trauma (AAST). Throughout the week, I heard excellent presentations of novel science, advancing the care of our patients, but also heard many, many stories, including the very personal and vulnerable presentation by Dr. J. Wayne Meredith, beloved surgeon and colleague, who told his own story of navigating cancer. He expressed that what mattered to him in his darkest moments, was not his (very) long list of impressive academic accomplishments, but rather, his most trusted friends who supported him when he needed it most. Throughout the week, I heard story after story of connections made at our national meetings that led to friendships and partnerships, that advance our scientific work, and more importantly, nurture the relationships that benefit our patients, and support us as caregivers as we care for our patients.

Stories teach us lessons. They draw us in and reveal deeper truths about us. Jesus taught his lessons through stories (parables) for a reason: We identify with stories, we see ourselves in them, and we learn from them. This is the same reason I advise the students and residents I work with to read about the disease processes they see while taking care of their patients each day; we learn about sepsis by reading about it after taking care of a septic patient; we learn about the best management of severe rib fractures after seeing a patient who has multiple rib fractures. When we can tie a patient and their story to a concept, the learning truly sticks.

This weekend is the Plaza Art Fair, and although I’m a little tired after traveling late last night, on this quiet and gorgeous Sunday afternoon, my husband said, “You wanna check out the Art Fair? Just for an hour. Not gonna buy anything. Let’s just walk around.” Sure, why not?

This is not your grandma’s arts and crafts festival. The Plaza Art Fair draws renowned artists from around the world. I was in awe. Still, I told myself, I won’t buy anything; I don’t need anything. Then we walked by Clifton Henri‘s booth. I stopped and was totally drawn in by a piece titled “Wings”. The artist, Clifton, was standing there and I asked him, “Can you tell me the story behind this piece.” He smiled. I could tell that he loves telling the stories. “This is a picture of my student advisor’s daughter. She went to the restroom, and when it was quite a while and she didn’t come back, we found her like this. She said, ‘I just wanted to see myself.'” (please see: cliftonhenri.com and view the photograph titled “Wings” as found on his home page; picture not posted here in respect of his original work, but cover photo is me and the artist.) The descriptor on the image pierced me:

“Wings” is dedicated to all the courageous women and fearless little girls that are determined to see themselves represented in this world. May you conquer any and every obstacle set in your path. May your confidence never be swayed and instincts never doubted. Shine like you were meant to. Fly like you were born to; and don’t let anything stand in your way.

Stories empower and inspire us. Stories also bring us to a place of empathy and compassion. Today, I have been reminded yet again about the power of stories and just how sacred the moments are that we spend listening to each others’ stories.

Disclaimer: My viewpoints are not necessarily reflective of my employer, or any local, regional or national organization that I belong to. As a matter of fact, I pretty much just speak for myself. Please keep that in mind.