Joe was sitting on the edge of his bed. An IV tube was stuck in his arm, but otherwise he looked like a fairly chipper six-year-old.

I was a new student chaplain on the general medical-surgical floor at Children's Hospital. The children on this floor, in most cases, were not seriously or critically ill-which meant that they could be a bit more lively in talking with a chaplain, or a bit more up to ignoring her!

"Hi," I said, "my name is Nina Herrmann and I'm the new chaplain on this floor. What's your name?"

"Joe White."

"Hi, Joe White. Do you know what a chaplain is?"

"No-do you give shots?" he asked, with the universal look of a child faced with a needle.

"No." I smiled. "They won't let me."

"That's good. Do you play games?"

"I can. But that's not the main thing a chaplain does. Do you go to church at home?"

"Yeah, most of the time."

"Do you know the person who stands up in the pulpit and preaches-the minister?"

"Yeah-are you one of those?"

"Yes. Only I work here at the hospital instead of at a ...