When the patient’s door was closed, she jumped in the window. She loved mountains and Beethoven. In every, even the most deformed body, she saw a man. How did the fate of the nurse take place, to which Karol Wojtyła himself had a weakness?
She often appeared in apartments that everyone forgot about. And there, instead of broken bottles, dirty rags or fleas, she just saw a suffering man. Perpetually smiling, in a white starched uniform. She used to say that she was “a facilitator and an intermediary from everything” by profession. “My job is not only my profession, but – vocation. I will understand this vocation if I penetrate and assimilate Christ’s words: I did not come to be served, but to serve me. “