For Matt as you enter another week of tests . . . . Rachel Naomi Remen had just lost a breast cancer patient who was only 37. She spent some time later with the woman's husband and four-year-old daughter. As they visited, the child reached into her pocket and pulled out a heart. "It's a feelie heart," the dad explained. "She never goes anywhere without it. Dr. Remen discovered that the heart had been sent from a bereavement center in Tacoma, Washington that ministers to children who've suffered the death of a loved one. "No two hearts are exactly alike, and each has a life of its own. . . . It is common for children who have grieved to give their feelie heart to other children who are going through hard times. One little girl gave her heart to her father when her parents divorced. A small boy sent his to his teacher when her own little boy died." Remen thought about all the physicians she worked with who came through her Continuing Medical Education program to help them deal with death. They're trained to be ashamed of deaths or not to talk about them, but many of the best doctors carry around their repressed losses for years. Here's what she did: "Some time ago, I wrote to the women who make the feelie hearts for Bridges to tell them about this work, about the oncologists, emergency-room physicians, surgeons, and internists who have spent time with us and about the fifty first- and second-year UCSF medical students who take our course on the art of healing every year. They sent us hundreds of little velvet hearts. They fit into the pocket of a white coact perfectly. Several of the students have told me that they find that if they hold their feelie heart while they study, it relaxes them. But perhaps it does more than this. The first- and second-year medical students at our school and at every medical school are remarkable young people, on fire with the spirit of service. They are people who care deeply and passionately. Research at medical schools throughout the country shows that often this passion does not survive the rigors of the training. Sometimes I think of one of these young people, late at night, struggling to memorize the countless facts on which the scientific practice of medicine is based and holding on to a little velvet heart. The image fills me with an irrational sense of hope."