I’ve got to believe that when Amy Brink first joined Centralia High School, she never imagined she would still be here more than 20 years later. But her path—Granite City native, Nashville transplant, medical assistant turned RN—kept curving toward a role she didn’t know she was meant for until she found herself in it.

Her hiring story has become almost legend. While working in a Carlyle doctor’s office, the superintendent’s father bragged about her skill and care during an appointment. “She’s such a good nurse,” he told the doctor. The next day, she had an interview. Soon after, her name was announced at a board meeting, broadcast on the radio before she even had the chance to tell her coworkers.

That was 21 years ago. Since then, Brink has become much more than the person who hands out Tylenol or takes temperatures. For many students, she is the steady adult presence they can rely on when life outside of school feels chaotic. Some lack even basics at home—Band-Aids, antiseptics, or someone to show them how to care for a wound. Others come with heavier burdens: hunger, trauma, neglect.

One encounter still humbles her. A student who frequently came to her office once told her, “You’re nicer to me than my mom even is.” Brink remembers thinking she hadn’t done anything special, just helped with what the student needed. But to that child, it meant everything. “It reminded me that even the smallest gestures can matter more than we know,” she says.

Over the years, she has often played the role of nurse, counselor, aunt, or even grandma. A former student once shared on social media that the nurse was the only adult who made her feel safe through years of bullying. Brink doesn’t recall the details but remembers the weight of such visits. “It’s why I feel this is my calling,” she says.

Her sense of belonging is sharpened by the contrast she sees between Centralia and other places she’s worked. “Here, the need is just so much greater,” she says. “I realized—this is where I’m meant to be.”

Now a grandmother herself, she looks back on two decades that have carried her from seeing siblings cycle through her office to caring for the children of former students. And she knows she’s become part of the community she once thought she stood outside of.

“What makes Centralia unique,” she says, “is the way the community comes together in times of need. Whenever something big happens, people rally for each other.”

For Amy Brink, the nurse’s office isn’t just a workplace. It’s a safe haven, a listening post, and a reminder that showing care—in both little and big ways—can change lives.