My first shopping in a general store was in Miss Bee’s when I spent the summer with my grandmother in New York.

“Go get them yourself” Miss Bee said, ignoring the shopping list held up before her nose. “I’m not your servant, so just get yourself a basket from that pile over there and start filing.”

It took me three wall-to-wall searches before I found the first item on my list — a pork can be placed between boxes of cereal and bread. Next up was toilet paper, found under the daily newspaper, and Band-Ads, found next to the face cream. The store was a puzzle, but it held some surprises too. I found a new Superman comic behind the peanut butter.

I visited Miss Bee a couple of times a week that summer. Sometimes she short-charged me. Other times she overcharged or sold me an old newspaper instead of a current one. Going to the store was more like going into battle. I left my Grandma’s house armed with my list — memorized to the letter — and marched into Miss Bee’s like General Patton (巴顿将军) marching into North Africa.

All summer long she found ways to trip me up. No sooner had I learned how to pronounce bicarbonate of soda (小苏打) and memorized its location on the shelf than Miss Bee rearranged the shelves and made me hunt for it all over again. By summer’s end, however, the shopping trip that had once taken me an hour was done in 15 minutes.

The morning I was to return to Brooklyn, I stopped in to tell her that she was mean. To my amazement, she laughed and said. “Well, I don’t care! Each of us is put on this earth for a reason. I believe my job is to teach every child I meet some life lessons to help them. Think what you will, but when you get older you’ll be glad our paths crossed!”

I was a student. To gather data for my paper, I started visiting patients at Dr Sardjito Hospital, where I would review the medical records of patients and then interview them

One evening, I was in a ward(病房), desperately “ hunting” for the final three patients I needed to complete my study. Holding a patient questionnaire, I walked towards a room. A patient called Ms A was lying in bed, clearly still weak. There were no relatives or friends with her. Even the bed beside her was empty. I sat down on a chair next to her bed. and in a low voice I introduced myself and asked if I could gather some additional information from her. She agreed. After I finished, I prepared to leave. Before I stood up, Ms A said," I haven't seen you here before, doctor. Are you new?” “Not really, madam. It's just that I don't come here every day," I replied. Ms A started talking about herself. She shared her difficulties and sufferings, and talked about her husband, who was killed in a car accident, and how she struggled to earn money. All I did was nod my head as a way of showing my sympathy.

Without realizing it, I had begun holding Ms A's hand. Finally, Ms A stopped talking, “I'm very sorry for keeping you here to listen to my problems, but I feel relieved now. I had no one to pour out my problems to. " Tears fell from the corner of her eyes. Finally. I knew what to say, “It's OK, madam. It's a part of my duty." I stood up and waved goodbye. A few days later, when I returned to the ward, I discovered Ms A had left the hospital as her condition had improved. Ms A taught me the most important lesson a doctor should learn. Sometimes patients do not need expensive medicine. They just need someone with the patience and willingness to keep an open ear and spare a little of his/her time.