Every Day at 3 p.m., a Stranger Came to My Daughter’s Hospital Room—Then I Learned Why
For six months, my life was reduced to hospital hallways and borrowed sleep. My 17-year-old daughter, Hannah, lay unconscious after a car accident caused by a driver who ran a red light. Days blurred together under fluorescent lights, measured by coffee cups and quiet hope.
And every afternoon, without fail, at exactly 3 p.m., the same man appeared.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a gray beard and the unmistakable look of a biker. He never announced himself. He’d nod politely, sit beside Hannah’s bed, gently hold her hand, and sometimes read from a fantasy novel. After an hour, he’d stand, nod again, and leave.
I didn’t know who he was—or why he came—but his presence became impossible to ignore. Part of me felt comforted that someone cared enough to show up so faithfully. Another part of me felt uneasy, sensing there was more to this story.
Eventually, I couldn’t hold the questions in anymore. I stopped him in the hallway and asked why he kept coming.
Continue reading on the next page…