I was dusting my office and there, of course, next to my 'therapist' chair, is the picture Rocky made me shortly before he died on May 16, 1976, a few days before I graduated from grad school.

Rocky was my first client. He was three, I was twenty. He had a tumor in his leg, and over the next four years, he was in the hospital a lot. At the time, I was waiting to get into medical school, and was biding my time (as it turned out, serendipitously) by working in a pediatric ward as what was then known as a 'play-lady' and is now known as a Child Life Worker.

Rocky changed my life in many ways. He was happy, with the most sparkling, wondrous personality. He had a sweet round face, and a beaming smile, and could imitate a horse (in Old Macdonald) better than anyone I'd ever met before or since. He taught me how to live in the face of adversity. Resilience and grace.

He also taught me I was better suited to talking with children, not poking and prodding them with instruments. So, I withdrew my med school applications, and now fifty years have gone by.

I told his mother I'd keep his picture of a sun and people and a house with flowers in my office forever.

Illustrative image used; no photo provided