My analytical mind found the idea ridiculous. What would they think of me? The self-conscious scientist in me dug in my heels and tried to ignore this thought. My intuition, full of faith, trust, spontaneous part of me, was delighted with the idea, but soon a louder, more rational voice won over it.

I let the argument recede, absorbed in the therapeutic process of adding brilliant color to the painting. I painted the girl on the bike in a vibrant assortment of reds, greens, and blues. I gave her golden hair and a smile so wide that it lit up her whole face. When the pilot announced that we were about to descend, I was almost done. The voice inside spoke again, louder this time:

act. Give the picture to the nuns.

This reignited the argument in my head. How funny! What will they think of me? Despite my self-doubt, this time I went with my gut. I carefully plucked the small 4 x 6 picture from my coloring book, turned and smiled at my sisters. I said, “Hi, my name is Jill, and I just colored this picture for you.”

The sister closest to me reached out and took a picture, beaming with a huge, warm smile and a twinkle in her eye, and said, “Oh my love! Thank you!”

I could tell she was genuinely touched. A tear rolled down her cheek as she looked at the joyful girl on the bike and read the verse that God would be with her wherever she traveled. She introduced herself as Sister Mary Rose and told me that she and Sister Cathy were flying to teach in Montessori schools and that the written words could not have been more appropriate. “Sometimes travel really wears us out,” she said. “We go and go and we serve the people we visit. We love teaching, but sometimes we get really tired and I miss sleeping in my own bed.”

I told her that I often feel the same way about my work as a doctor.

We shared stories about traveling and teaching, and agreed on the challenges of staying awake in our own bed, eating different foods on the road that didn’t suit us, and many things that could interfere with a refreshing night’s sleep. When the sign to fasten seat belts disappeared and we were able to get out of our seats, we stood up and hugged each other, laughing with joy and the unexpected connection. Within minutes I felt like I had known them for years. Sister Mary Rose printed my name on the back of the picture and said, “I will pray for you.”