My infant son was scheduled to be circumcised, as was the expectation in those days. I, a young teen mother, stood in line and watched as one mother after another handed their son to the nurse and walked away. Only I went into the room and held my son during the procedure.
They left because they could not bear the sound of their baby suffering. I stayed because I could not bear the thought of my baby suffering alone.
The opportunity to comfort exists only if we dare to hear the pain.