Josie is, without question, one of the most extraordinary nurses I have ever known. Clinically exceptional, deeply compassionate, and endlessly generous, she has spent her 22 years at Johns Hopkins quietly changing the lives of patients, families, and colleagues, simply by being who she is.

For as long as I have known her, Josie has lived to serve others. She has cooked thousands of meals for staff, transported coworkers to chemotherapy appointments, and opened her home for holidays so no one had to feel alone. She goes out of her way to welcome new nurses, recently embracing an international nurse from the Philippines, and she is currently collecting winter clothing for another nurse arriving from Zimbabwe, anticipating needs before they’re even voiced.

Josie’s care for patients is just as intentional. She celebrates every step forward, literally, cheering on patients as they walk, presenting certificates and medals when goals are met or records are broken. She builds relationships with patients and their loved ones that look effortless, even in the most demanding situations. She creates “cardiac surgery survivor” t-shirts and sweatshirts so patients can wear their resilience proudly. She gives people something priceless: hope.

What motivated this nomination, though, is one moment that perfectly captures who Josie is. Recently, we cared for a patient in his 80s whose wife had been staying at the hospital because they live in Southern Maryland, and the commute is too far. She was exhausted, uncomfortable, and overwhelmed, complaining about hospital food, lacking clean clothes, and slowly being perceived by staff as a second patient. The team asked for help setting boundaries.

Instead of telling her what we couldn’t do, Josie chose to understand what she needed. She sat with the wife, asked a few questions, and really listened. She learned that the woman didn’t want to burden her son. That she felt helpless and hopeless. That she was physically ill because she never eats salt and the standard meals delivered during the snowstorm were making her feel unwell.

Josie helped her download Instacart and order food that met her dietary needs. She coordinated with our unit assistant so she could borrow a cart to retrieve the delivery. She arranged access to laundry in Hackerman Pavilion and offered to help coordinate shower time. Most importantly, she gently encouraged her to call her son, who then agreed to take her home for a night and bring her back the next day.

Did the conversation take two hours? Yes. Did it change everything? Absolutely. That wife ended her day with dignity restored, the ability to care for herself, and a renewed sense of support. The patient’s care improved. The staff felt relieved. And no one was made to feel like a burden.

Josie never expects recognition for moments like this, yet they define her. She is the nurse I would want to care for my family and is the colleague I am profoundly grateful to work beside. She inspires me daily to be a better nurse and a better person.

Although the DAISY program began after Josie transitioned from bedside nursing into leadership, I am confident that, had it existed earlier, she would have been nominated many times over by patients and families whose lives she touched. She is a model nurse and leader for Johns Hopkins Hospital, and I can think of no one more deserving of this recognition.

I would love to see Josie receive the DAISY Award and proudly display it, not as validation she seeks, but as a reminder of the incredible, lasting impact she has had on countless lives.