
Hospitals are often places of anxiety, but for children, the fear is magnified a hundred times. For 2-year-old Xin Er, the looming heart surgery at Zhejiang University Hospital was more terrifying than anyone could imagine. Her fragile heart condition was already a heavy burden, but the sterile walls, masked faces, and unfamiliar machines turned her fear into uncontrollable sobs.
On that morning, Xin Er sat trembling in oversized green hospital scrubs, her tiny fists clenched tightly. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she clung to the chair, refusing to let go. Nurses tried to soothe her, whispering softly and offering toys, but nothing calmed the child. Her parents stood nearby, helpless and heartbroken, their own eyes red with worry.
That’s when Dr. Shi Zhuo, the Deputy Director of Cardiac Surgery, noticed her distress. He had performed countless life-saving operations, managed critical emergencies, and faced the gravest of surgical risks. Yet here, his greatest challenge wasn’t inside an operating room — it was a little girl’s fear.
Without hesitation, he knelt down, scooped Xin Er into his arms, and held her close. She cried against his shoulder, trembling, until he gently pulled out his phone. With one hand cradling her securely, he opened a simple cartoon app and let the bright colors and cheerful sounds play. Slowly, her cries began to fade. The unfamiliar machines and masked faces melted away in her mind, replaced by laughter and playful music.
A passing anesthesiologist, moved by the moment, quietly snapped a photo — capturing a surgeon not only saving lives with skill, but with compassion. That photo would soon travel across the world, a reminder of the humanity within medicine.
Later, when asked why he did it, Dr. Shi smiled humbly and said, “Children always fear before surgery. We are doctors, but we are also parents. We must understand their fear.”
Thanks to his simple act of kindness, Xin Er finally calmed down enough to be prepared for her surgery. Hours later, the operation began. It was long, delicate, and complex — but successful. When her parents heard the words “She made it through” from the surgical team, their tears returned, this time from relief and gratitude.
Weeks later, Xin Er was back on her feet, running in the hospital garden, her laughter echoing where cries once filled the hall. To her parents, every step, every smile was no longer ordinary — it was a miracle.
Dr. Shi’s gesture became more than just comfort in a moment of fear; it became a symbol of what medicine should always strive for. Beyond the procedures, beyond the science, there is a profound responsibility to care for the soul as much as the body.
Stories like this remind us that healing isn’t only found in machines or scalpels, but in human connection. A doctor holding a frightened child, a cartoon playing softly on a phone, a heart surgery that saved a future — all stitched together by compassion.
Sometimes, it takes just a small gesture to turn fear into courage. And sometimes, that gesture changes everything.