1. From Fear to Faith #2
Everything she had, she got out the mud.
She had no one to look up to, no blueprint to follow.
In her world, people settled. Hood rich were the highest level of success she had ever seen, and even that money came from blood and drugs, never anything clean.
Dreaming big wasn’t encouraged. It was laughed at.
But she had survived too much to think small.
Every hardship had shaped her into the driven, disciplined enterprising person she had become.
A hustler in the truest sense of the word.
One who built, endured, and kept moving forward.
And now she was here. Her phone rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. Bestie flashed across the screen.
“Bitch, did you make it safe? Your flight landed at 2:45, and it’s five!”
“Jazz, slow down. Yes, I made it. I’m safe. I’m fine,” Kira said.
“Good. ‘Because you know if you weren’t, I’d be on the first flight smokin’. But you a ‘D’ girl, I know you can handle yourself. Still…”
“I know, Jazz. And thanks. I’m proud of you too, seeing you do your thang. Can’t wait to visit, gotta find me a Harlem boo,” Kira laughed.
“Shit! Brooklyn and Queens boo too. Hell, fuck it, I ain’t from there anyway!” The girls laughed. Kira loved how Jazz popped her shit. Fuck it, she thought, let the best man win. Her smile said it all.
“But I love you. Gotta go, my west side boo about to pull up. I love you, Kira. Be safe.”
“I love you too, Jazz,” Kira said, smiling before ending the call. She knew that if no one had her back in this cold world, she did.
Monday morning came faster than she expected. She listened to Sada Baby as she put on her blue scrubs, excitement and nerves colliding as she prepared for her first day at Mount Sinai. When she was dressed, she bowed her head and said her morning prayer.
“God, I thank You for today and for the opportunity to continue doing what is meaningful in my life. I pray that everyone I cross paths with feels my warmth and Your grace. Bless my hands to bring healing to the sick as I serve You. As my Lord and Father, guide me to move with intention throughout this day. Amen.”
She looked out of her window and saw her Uber waiting out front. She took a deep breath before walking out the door, locking it behind her. As she approached the car, the window rolled down slowly.
“Kira?” the older black gentleman asked.
“Yes, sir,” Kira said as she slid into the back seat.
Doug E. Fresh’s “The Show” played softly from the speakers.
As the car pulled off, she watched Harlem wake up around her.
Trees were beginning to bloom, their leaves fresh and green, stretching toward the sun.
Storefronts lifted their gates, music spilling onto the sidewalks.
Neighbors stood on stoops talking, laughing, living.
Spring had softened the city, but the energy was still there, alive.
She pressed her forehead lightly against the window, taking it all in, letting the moment settle.
This was Harlem in the and this was the morning her life shifted.
The Uber turned onto Madison Avenue, and Mount Sinai rose up ahead, its brick fa?ade catching the morning sun.
Ambulances lined the curb, their lights muted, engines idling, ready for the chaos of the day.
Nurses in scrubs moved quickly along the sidewalk, coffee cups in hand, badges swinging, eyes focused.
After meeting with her supervisor and the team of nurses and doctors she would be working with, she was assigned to the 5th floor. Wynter, another ICU nurse, immediately took a liking to her. Kira’s energy was calm and free-spirited, and it stood out.
“Hey, if you have any questions about anything, don’t be afraid to ask,” Wynter said.
She leaned closer to Kira’s ear and lowered her voice.
“I’m cool as fuck. I’m not like these other bitches, deadass.
” She smirked, breaking the ice and putting a smile on Kira’s face.
She instantly felt welcomed instead of out of place, her body language softening as the tension melted from her shoulders.
“My name’s Wynter, by the way.” Her hair was pulled up into a high, full puff, with slayed edges, nothing out of place.
It framed her carmel skin face and lifted her presence, giving her a look that was both polished and confident.
Her eyes held a quiet sharpness, observant, knowing, like she’d seen enough in this job to read people quickly, but still chose warmth.
“I’m Kira,” she said. “I just moved here from Detroit. I’m from the North End to be exact.
Just trying something new, you know?” Normally, Kira was an introvert and did not care to make new friends, but there was something about Wynter that made her willing to let her guard down a little.
Her first priority was protecting her peace.
She was still healing, so discernment became her shield, knowing that every smiling face didn’t deserve access to her energy.
“Oh, okay. I’m not really familiar with Detroit, but I was born and raised in Queens and moved to Harlem two years ago. It’s a pleasure meeting you,” she said with a warm smile, shifting her weight slightly as her posture relaxed.
They made small talk for a few minutes before she began attending to her patients.
Every patient was special to her, each one carrying a unique story, fighting for their life with faith and hope that this wasn’t the end.
Still, she felt herself drawn to room 501.
Inside was an older woman, well into her seventies, but even with salt-and-pepper hair, Kira could tell she had been beautiful in her prime.
There was a softness to her face, a quiet grace that time hadn’t taken away.
The room was filled with roses, their scent lingering in the air, a silent testament to how deeply she was loved and cared for.
The woman was truly blessed. Kira had seen too many patients die alone, without family or friends to comfort them or offer a prayer, and she never wanted anyone to feel unseen in their final moments.
If no one else cared, she did. She hadn’t become a nurse for the love of money, but to give the love she had longed for in her own life, freely, gently, and without condition.
She quietly closed the door and held the woman’s hand in her own, then softly began to sing Amazing Grace.
Her voice wasn’t perfect, but each note carried the weight of her heart.
The woman’s eyes fluttered beneath closed lids, a silent “thank you” passing between them without words.
Kira quickly turned her head toward the door, a faint unease tightening in her chest, as though someone was watching her.
When she saw no one, she dismissed the feeling and exhaled softly.
Returning to her duties, she turned back to the computer, fingers moving across the keyboard as she entered her notes before she finally stepped out.
She went to take a seat back at the nurse's station.
“What do you think so far?” Wynter asked, tilting her head slightly as she studied her, genuinely curious about how she was adjusting to the hospital, the coworkers, and life in Harlem.
“I think it’s pretty dope. I have no complaints,” she said, a soft smile spreading across her lips as she gave a small, easy shrug.
“It’s a new environment, but the experiences feel familiar.
” She paused for a second, as if choosing her words carefully.
“I give love to all people, so I naturally feel connected to my patients. I just want to give them the best care, and the kind of love they deserve. The same kind I’d want for myself…
or for my loved ones.” Her fingers absentmindedly brushed against her arm before she continued, her voice gentle but sure.
“Everyone I’ve met so far has been pleasant. I haven’t experienced any of the rudeness people warned me about.” Wynter let out a light laugh, her shoulders lifting as she shook her head. “Yeah, that’s definitely something you hear a lot about New Yorkers.”
She smiled a little wider, quiet confidence settling in her posture.
“Yeah, but I didn’t come in with that mindset.
I judge people individually, not based on rumors.
” Her eyes briefly scanned the room before landing back on Wynter, steady and sincere.
“So far, everything feels… good. Peaceful, even.” A small pause lingered between them before she added, softer this time,
“I’m really glad we met.” Wynter’s expression warmed, the kind that didn’t need words.
She found Wynter effortlessly funny and refreshingly down-to-earth.
Somehow, she had a way of making everything feel easier, even on that first day.
As the days went on, their bond grew naturally, built on shared laughs, quiet understanding, and the little things they had in common, like their love for getting lost in a good urban fiction book.
It felt like she was finally aligning with her tribe, like God was placing the right people in her life and removing the ones who no longer belonged.
For once, everything seemed to be working in her favor.
In the quiet discipline of her prayer life, she found reassurance, she was reaping what she had sown.