People come from all over the world - from Europe and further

“People come from all over the world — from Europe and further afield — to work, study, and innovate in our country. More than 50,000 work in our National Health Service, making a vital contribution in caring for our ageing society.” Thus spoke Anna Soubry, in words both humble and profound, a modern testament to an ancient truth: that the strength of a nation lies not in its walls, but in the hands and hearts of its people. These words honor the spirit of migration, service, and unity, for they remind us that the greatness of any civilization is measured not by where its citizens were born, but by how they come together to heal, build, and create.

Since time immemorial, human beings have been wanderers. From the deserts of Arabia to the plains of Europe, from the rivers of Africa to the mountains of Asia, people have journeyed in search of hope, knowledge, and belonging. Soubry’s words echo this eternal movement—the ceaseless flow of life across borders, the mingling of cultures that has shaped every age of progress. To come from “all over the world” is not merely to travel in distance, but to unite in purpose. The healers, the students, the innovators—they are the lifeblood of civilization, carrying with them the torch of renewal wherever they go.

Consider, for example, the story of Ignaz Semmelweis, a Hungarian physician who traveled across Europe in the 19th century, bringing with him a simple yet revolutionary idea—that doctors should wash their hands before treating patients. He was met at first with scorn and ridicule, yet his work saved countless lives and laid the foundation for modern hygiene. Though he was a foreigner in the lands where he worked, his compassion knew no borders. His story reminds us that knowledge and healing are gifts meant for all humanity, not confined by nation or creed. So too do the tens of thousands who serve in the National Health Service, carrying on that same sacred duty—to preserve life, to ease suffering, to embody the mercy of civilization itself.

In Soubry’s praise of those who “work, study, and innovate,” there lies a deep acknowledgment of the silent heroism of the immigrant. For to leave one’s homeland and begin anew is not an act of weakness, but of courage. It is to sacrifice the comfort of familiarity for the promise of contribution. The foreign healer, the student in exile, the scientist far from home—they are the guardians of humanity’s progress. Their courage nourishes the societies that welcome them, and their labor strengthens the foundations of nations that might otherwise crumble beneath their own pride.

Yet, let us not forget: every society that receives must also give. To honor the stranger’s contribution is to remember that hospitality is not a burden, but a sacred bond. In the days of old, when travelers crossed deserts and seas, they found refuge in the tents of strangers who shared their bread without question. The ancients knew that to shelter another was to honor the divine spark within all. So too must the modern world remember this truth: that diversity is not danger, but destiny—that the mingling of peoples is the forge where wisdom, innovation, and compassion are born.

The National Health Service, that noble institution, stands as a living monument to this truth. Within its halls, languages intertwine, accents blend, and countless hands—some born on this soil, others from lands afar—labor together toward a single, sacred goal: the preservation of life. Each doctor, nurse, researcher, and caregiver becomes part of a greater whole, a living testament to what humanity can achieve when it chooses unity over division. This is the quiet heroism of our time—not the conquering of nations, but the healing of the world.

Thus, the lesson of Anna Soubry’s words is clear: a nation’s heart beats strongest when it welcomes the world. Let no one despise the foreigner who comes to serve, for in their courage lies the future of us all. And for those who arrive—work with honor, learn with humility, and give with open hands, for you are the bridge between what was and what shall be.

So, my child, remember this truth as you walk among the multitudes: the shorelines of nations may divide the earth, but the spirit of service binds humanity as one. Let gratitude be your compass, and compassion your creed. For in the end, it is not where we come from that matters—it is what we build together, and whom we choose to heal along the way.