I learned a difficult lesson several years ago–one that reshaped my perspective on life and compassion. It started with the distant wail of sirens as an ambulance sped by. I barely noticed it, continuing my day as usual. Then came “the call.” My father was in that ambulance, being rushed to a helicopter that would fly him to a trauma center. He had fallen from a tree he was trimming, suffering severe, life-threatening injuries.

Our lives changed forever that day. After numerous surgeries, weeks in the hospital, and months of rehabilitation, we brought him home as a quadriplegic. His remaining years were challenging, filled with hard-earned lessons. One of the most profound was this: It isn’t always someone else who faces heartbreak and hardship–sometimes it’s you. That realization has stayed with me, making me more compassionate toward those facing their own struggles. Now, when I hear an ambulance, I no longer brush it off. I pause, imagine the family affected, and often whisper a prayer for them.

I was reminded of this truth again recently when a routine medical test came back abnormal. Soon after, my doctor’s office called to schedule follow-up testing. The wait for those results felt endless. My mind raced with worst-case scenarios, and my efforts to stay positive faltered. Anxiety crept in, robbing me of sleep and leaving me irritable and drained.

Despite words of encouragement from family and friends, my worry built walls that those kind words couldn’t penetrate. When the day for further testing finally arrived, I found myself in a small hospital cubicle, alone with my thoughts. I wondered how many others had sat in that same spot, uncertain of their future. The air felt heavy with anxiety, and I silently prayed–for myself, for those who had come before me, and for those yet to arrive.

As I moved through the testing, I asked my technician, “How do you do it? How do you comfort your patients when they arrive nervous and afraid? How do you handle delivering difficult news?” It struck me how much we often overlook the emotional burden our healthcare professionals carry every day. While we acknowledged their dedication during COVID, have we forgotten the ongoing weight they bear? This experience reminded me not to take their compassion and strength for granted.

At last, I received my results–thankfully, everything was normal. Relief flooded over me, but a lingering thought remained: It isn’t always someone else… but this time, it was. I felt immense gratitude, yet my heart ached for the people who weren’t as fortunate–those sitting in waiting rooms, receiving difficult news, and facing uncertain futures.

This experience changed me. While I celebrate my good news, I hold tightly to the reminder that compassion is never wasted. For those walking through difficult moments–whether in hospital gowns, by their loved one’s bedside, or waiting for “the call”–our understanding, love, and support can make all the difference. Because one day, it might not be someone else. It might be you.

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Rhonda S. Kelley is the executive director of the Juniata River Valley Chamber of Commerce.