Her name was Brenda. I met her in a nursing home when I was recovering from an operation. She was in her 50s. At one time in her life she was pretty, but drug use over the years diminished her looks. She was what I guess could be called a simple woman: that is, there was none of that inner questioning that that so many of us have. And I admired her. Brenda's roommate was a woman dying of kidney disease. She had been on dialysis, but her disease was progressing to the point that dialysis wasn't doing any good. Brenda took it upon herself to watch over this woman, helping her out daily, keeping her company, calling her family with updates on the woman's health and outlook. Weeks passed. The woman died, and Brenda notified her family. Brenda was both sad and exhausted. All of my life I have looked at situations, and asked myself "What is the right thing to do?" Often, I hesitated, worrying that what I was going to do would be the best thing that I could do. And here came Brenda. She was unencumbered by introspection or philosophy. She saw what the right thing to do was, and she did it. It was an instinctive thing, with no thought put into it. I do wish I could be more like her. We all have our moments of greatness. This one was Brenda's. Sadly, after she left the nursing home, she became addicted to pain killers again. But for one brief time she showed her potential.