Dr. Harold Givens sighed as he checked the eyes, nose, throat, gait, and back of another
hopeful immigrant. He had 15 seconds to determine whether this person would be admitted
into the country or into the hospital on Ellis Island. It was necessary work, and he was good
at it, but in the back of his mind, always, was Mount Sinai Hospital. As a young, ambitious
doctor, he had been turned down for a surgeon’s job there. And now here he was on Ellis
Island with all these incoming immigrants. Lameness? Diphtheria? Eye disease? Mental
illness? If he detected anything on the list, he must write the chalk symbol on the person’s
clothes and move on to the next. He wanted more for his career than this. Each evening, he
took home to his wife and children his bitterness, his fatigue, and his disappointment.
One day, the hospital on the island was short-staffed, and Dr. Givens was assigned
there. As he passed the children’s ward, he stopped. He looked. For the first time, he really
looked. Most of these children were here because a parent was being treated in another
part of the hospital. As he looked at their scared, sad faces, Dr. Givens thought of his own
children—Anna and Benjamin. The next day, each time he marked a potential immigrant’s
clothes with a chalk mark, he silently gave thanks for his home, his family, and, yes, his job.
1. Name an important detail about the setting of the passage.