The human spirit is an incredible thing, and history bears testimony of man’s ability to rise against the odds.
Yes, even when all seems lost there are green shoots of hope, sometimes in the most unexpected places, sometimes amid the greatest of chaos and despair. Once sighted, it can – even if for just a short while – glaze the horror of living through the deadly, devastating pandemic that is Covid-19.
Even in the early stages, back in March last year when the country went into hard lockdown in an effort to stem the spread, it left thousands without an income, schoolchildren without the vital feeding scheme that often provided their only meal for the day. It saw big and small businesses flounder and fail and, on the medical care front, hospitals and medical personnel were run off their feet.
Even then, the green shoots were abundant. Communities rallied to form soup kitchens, put together care packs for frontline workers, knocked on doors for donations for food parcels.
If families cannot visit, they more than ever need to know what is happening in that hospital ward.
Those who had barely enough to sustain themselves made sure they served an extra plate for those in need.
Even restaurants that were unable to trade opened their kitchens to charities to enable them to prepare huge volumes of food.
The virus might have knocked the country down, but there were so many willing hands to help another up again.
Where it has proved most difficult, though, is keeping contact with loved ones in hospitals, old-age homes and frail care centres.
At their most vulnerable, the pandemic has cut off the comfort drawn from having those closest to you near to uplift the spirit and to support.
This time around, hospitals and institutions seem to realise that contact, any kind of contact, is vital. If families cannot visit, they more than ever need to know what is happening in that hospital ward.
What is emerging from these remarkable tales is the time healthcare workers take to keep families informed – there are phone calls to give updates, there are phones held against the ears of a patient to exchange brief words with their families, there are the small ways our frontline workers still try to buffer us against the ravages of the pandemic.
As one healthcare worker said last week: “My family is scared when I leave to go to the hospital, and they are scared if I come home.”
So if they pick up that phone at the end of a day to update a family on how a patient is doing, it is likely after a day in which they managed to save a life but probably also in which they lost a life. Yet, before they sign off there is still a ray of humaneness that somewhere, somebody else just needs to hear some news, any news.
We are in for a rough ride, with talk of a third, fourth, even fifth wave of the pandemic.
If healthcare workers are overrun now, think about how bad things can still become. Health minister Zweli Mkhize told healthworkers on Tuesday evening: "Thank you for all the work you do, all the counselling you do."
Today we tip our hats to those who keep on caring, nurturing, healing – not just their patients but also those outside the hospital walls.
