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The People Who Make Last Wishes Come True
I’ve learned that people who are going to die have little wishes，” says Kees Veldboer， the ambulance driver who founded the Stichting Ambulance Wens， or Ambulance Wish Foundation.
In November 2006 he was moving a terminally ill patient， Mario Stefanutto， from one hospital to another. But just after they put him on the 1）stretcher， they were told there would be a delay—the receiving hospital wasn’t ready. Stefanutto had no desire to get back in the bed where he had spent the past three months， so Veldboer asked if there was anywhere he would like to go.
The retired seaman asked if they could take him to the Vlaardingen 2）canal， so he could be by the water and say a final goodbye to 3）Rotterdam harbour. It was a sunny day， and they stayed on the 4）dockside for nearly an hour. “Tears of joy ran over his face，” says Veldboer. “When I asked him： ‘Would you like to have the opportunity to sail again？’ he said it would be impossible because he lay on a stretcher.”
Veldboer was determined to make this man’s last wish come true. He asked his boss if he could borrow an ambulance on his day off， recruited the help of a colleague and contacted a firm that does boat tours around Rotterdam harbour—they were all happy to help， and the following Friday， to Stefanutto’s astonishment， the ambulance driver turned up at his hospital bedside to take him sailing.
That was the 5）genesis of the Ambulance Wish Foundation. Veldboer and his wife Ineke， a nurse， started it at their kitchen table eight years ago. Now it has 230 volunteers， six ambulances and a holiday home， and is fast approaching 7，000 fulfilled wishes. On average， the charity helps four people a day—they can be any age and the only 6）stipulation is that patients are terminally ill and can’t be transported other than on a stretcher.
Although other charities offer terminally ill patients a day out， the Ambulance Wish Foundation was the first to provide an ambulance and full medical back-up. There is always a fully-trained nurse on board， and the specialist drivers tend to come from the police and fire brigades. The specially-designed ambulances have a view， and every patient receives a teddy bear called Mario， named after Stefanutto.
“It gives us volunteers so much satisfaction to see people enjoying themselves，” says Roel Foppen， a former soldier who acts as a driver. Over the past six years he has helped to fulfil 300 wishes.
Once he went as far as Romania， a 4，500km roundtrip. It was for a woman called Nadja， who had lived in the Netherlands for 12 years. Her children， aged three and seven， were already back in Romania with her family， and she wanted to go there to die.
“She was so ill we couldn’t even touch her，” says Foppen. They left on a Thursday morning， but as they were driving through Germany Nadja’s condition 7）deteriorated， so they stopped at a hospital. Doctors recommended Nadja stay there， but she wanted to see her children—and her wish was what counted. After a three-hour delay they carried on， through Austria， then Hungary—when they reached the Romanian border， Nadja said， “Take the stretcher out， now I can die！”
Foppen said， “It’s just another 600km to your mother and your children—could you 8）hang on just a little longer？” On the Saturday the ambulance arrived in 9）Bucharest for an emotional reunion. Then the crew drove back， leaving Nadja behind. Her family sent a card to say she died two weeks later.
“If people know we’re coming， they find new reserves of energy，” says Foppen. “Often the family tell us they were about to cancel because the patient was so ill， but when we arrive they are 10）beaming， ready for their day out.”
Knot， who works as a 11）district nurse. She first came across the charity when she was invited along by a cancer patient she had grown close to. The experience made Knot so enthusiastic she wrote to Veldboer to offer her services.
“Every time is special. You discuss it with your colleagues on the way home and it’s always special， no matter how small，” says Knot. “I had one lady who just wanted a glass of advocaat （a thick egg liqueur） at home. So her son bought a bottle， we went to her house， she spooned up the advocaat and we went back. That was her wish.”
“People ask， ‘Isn’t it draining？ Isn’t it emotional， always dealing with last wishes？’ Yes it is， but often people are ready to die because they are so far down the line， and then it’s nice to give them something they really want，” she says.
Frans Lepelaar is a former policeman who now drives for the charity. After 20 years behind a desk， investigating 12）fraud， he wanted to get back to helping people face-toface.
“It can be a long day—you could be back in the middle of the night. We always ask， ‘Do you want anything more？’ They’re always grateful. That’s what you do it for，” he says.
In 2014， Lepelaar and his colleague Olaf Exoo took Mario， a 54-year-old man with learning difficulties， to say a final goodbye to his colleagues at Rotterdam Zoo， where he had worked for 25 years. At the end of his shift as a maintenance man he used to always visit the animals， and they took him on his rounds one last time.
When they reached the giraffe 13）enclosure they were invited in， and it was then that one of the more curious giraffes came over and gave Mario a lick on the face. He was too ill to speak， but his face lit up， says Exoo， whose photograph of the “giraffe’s kiss” made headlines.
“It’s intense， but that’s why it’s interesting，” says Mirjam Lok， a 25-year-old nurse. “You don’t know who you’ll meet when you walk through the door， and at the end of the day you have fulfilled their last wish， you close the door and you think—that was good.”
Following the huge success of his venture， Veldboer has helped to set up similar ambulance services abroad， first in Israel—after taking a Jewish woman to Jerusalem， where she wanted to die—then in Belgium， Germany and Sweden.
A practical， no-nonsense man， he admits that setting up the foundation has given him confidence. “I used to think I didn’t amount to much， but then I discovered my ideas aren’t that bad after all. I’ve learned that if you follow your heart and do things your own way， people will support you.”
“I’m just a very ordinary Dutch guy who does what he likes best， and my hobby is helping others.”
“我了解到将死之人的心里都有一些小小的心愿。”凯斯·韦德波尔说，他就是那个成立了“救护车许愿基金会”的救护车司机。
2006年11月，他当时正准备把一位重病晚期病人马里奥·斯特法努托转移到另一间医院。但正当他们把病人抬到担架上时，他们被告知转移工作将会延迟——接收医院还没准备好。斯特法努托不想再回到病床上，他之前已经在那里躺了三个月，所以韦德波尔问他有没有什么想去的地方。
这位退休的水手问他们可否带他去符拉尔丁根运河，这样他就能在岸边与鹿特丹海港作最后的道别。那是个阳光明媚的日子，他们在码头边上待了将近一个小时。“欣慰的泪水划过他的脸庞。”韦德波尔说道。“我问他：‘你希望有机会再次航海吗？’他说那是不可能的，因为他躺在担架上。”
韦德波尔决心要帮助这个男人实现最后的愿望。于是他问上司，他可否在放假时借用一辆救护车，请来一位同事帮忙，并联系一家提供游览鹿特丹海港服务的游船公司——他们都很乐意提供帮助。所以在接下来的星期五，斯特法努托大吃一惊，因为韦德波尔这位救护车司机出现在他的病床边，说要带他去航海。
这就是“救护车许愿基金会”成立的起源。八年前，韦德波尔和他那位当护士的妻子伊奈可在厨房的餐桌上谈起要建立这个基金会。如今，该基金会已经拥有230名志愿者，六台救护车以及一间假日别墅。此外，该基金会已经帮助病患实现将近7000个愿望。“救护车许愿基金会”一天平均帮助四个人实现愿望——受助者的年龄不限，唯一的条件是他们必须是绝症病人，且只能通过担架才可行动。 虽然许多慈善机构都会给绝症病人提供一天的外出时间，但是“救护车许愿基金会”却是第一个给病人提供救护车以及全面的医疗支持的慈善机构。病人身边总有一位训练有素的护士在一旁陪同，司机大多是专业的警察和消防队员。专门设计的救护车可以让病人看到车外的景象，每个病人都会收到一只叫马里奥的泰迪熊，是以斯特法努托的名字命名的。
“看到人们心满意足的样子，我们志愿者心里也有很大的成就感。”罗埃尔·弗朋说道。他以前是一名军人，现在是基金会的司机。在过去的六年里，他已经帮助人们实现了300个愿望。
有一次，他去到遥远的罗马尼亚，往返路程为4500公里。那次行程是为了帮助一名叫娜蒂尔的女人，她在荷兰居住了12年。她的两个孩子，一个三岁，一个七岁，已经回去罗马尼亚和她家人住在一起。她想回到那儿，在那儿死去。
“她病得很严重，我们甚至不能触碰她。”弗朋说道。他们在一个星期四的早上出发，但当他们开车穿过德国时，娜蒂尔的病情恶化了，所以他们停在一家医院里。医生建议娜蒂尔留在医院里，但她想见见自己的孩子们——而她的心愿才是最重要的。在耽搁了三个小时后，他们继续上路，他们穿过了奥地利和匈牙利——当他们到达罗马尼亚的边境时，娜蒂尔说：“把担架拿开，我现在可以死去了！”
弗朋对她说：“只要再多走600公里，你就能回到你妈妈和孩子身边了——你能再坚持多一会儿吗？”救护车在星期六到达了布加勒斯特，他们迎来了一次激动人心的团聚。然后救护车队就挥别了娜蒂尔，开车驶回荷兰。两周后，她的家人寄来一张卡片，说她去世了。
“如果人们知道我们要来，他们就会有新的动力。”弗朋说。“病人的家属经常跟我们说他们快要取消申请了，因为病人的情况已经很严重，但当我们来到时，他们都很开心，已经为他们的外出做好准备。”
诺特是一名乡村巡回护士。她初次邂逅“救护车许愿基金会”是因为一位与她关系亲密的癌症病人，那位病人邀请她同行。那次的经历让诺特很激动，于是她给韦德波尔写信，表示她愿意提供志愿服务。
“每一次的经历都很特别。你与同事在回家的路上讨论，无论整件事多么微不足道，给人的感受总是很特别。”诺特说。“我见过一位女士，她的心愿只是要一杯家乡的蛋黄酒（一种强烈的鸡蛋酒精饮料）。所以她儿子买了一瓶回来，我们去到她的家，她把蛋黄酒打开，然后我们就回去了。那是她的心愿。”
“人们问：‘这种工作不累吗？不难受吗？总要接触别人的遗愿？”是的，确实如此，但对于那些早已病入膏肓，不抱希望的人们，我们能在这个时候给予他们真正想要的东西，很棒。”她说道。
法兰斯·莱帕勒以前是一名警察，现在是基金会的司机。之前的20年他都是坐在办公桌前调查诈骗案，现在，他想面对面地帮助人们。
“也许要花上漫长的一天——你可能要在午夜才能回家。我们总会这样问：‘你还有什么心愿吗？’他们总是很感激。这就是你参加这种工作的动力。”他说道。
2014年，莱帕勒和他的同事奥拉夫·亚克斯欧护送马里奥回去鹿特丹动物园与他的同事作最后的道别。马里奥当时54岁，患有学习障碍症，他已经在鹿特丹动物园工作了25年。在他当维修员的最后那些日子里，他常常去看望动物们。而在他最后一次看望它们时，它们围在了他的身边。
当他们到达长颈鹿生活区时，他们受到了长颈鹿群的邀请，就在那时，一头更具好奇心的长颈鹿走了过来，舔了舔马里奥的脸。他病得太严重了，无法开口说话，但他把脸抬了起来，据亚克斯欧说。亚克斯欧拍的照片“长颈鹿的吻别”成为了头条新闻。
“这让人很紧张，但这正是这份工作的有趣之处。”米莉亚姆·洛克说道，她25岁，是一名护士。“你不知道走进门后会遇到谁，而在一天结束后，你已经帮助他们实现了心愿，你关上房门，想到——那真棒。”
继“救护车许愿基金会”在荷兰取得巨大成功后，韦德波尔又在国外帮助成立了类似的救护车服务，首先是在以色列——在帮助护送一位犹太女人去耶路撒冷后，她想在那里结束自己的生命旅程——然后是比利时，德国和瑞典。
韦德波尔是一个实际而理智的人，他承认成立这个基金会给予了他信心。“我曾经以为自己无所作为，但后来我发现我的想法并没有那么糟糕。我认识到如果你跟随自己的心，做自己想做的事，别人也会支持你的。”
“我只是一个很普通的荷兰人，我只是在做自己最喜欢做的事，我的爱好就是帮助别人。”
I’ve learned that people who are going to die have little wishes，” says Kees Veldboer， the ambulance driver who founded the Stichting Ambulance Wens， or Ambulance Wish Foundation.
In November 2006 he was moving a terminally ill patient， Mario Stefanutto， from one hospital to another. But just after they put him on the 1）stretcher， they were told there would be a delay—the receiving hospital wasn’t ready. Stefanutto had no desire to get back in the bed where he had spent the past three months， so Veldboer asked if there was anywhere he would like to go.
The retired seaman asked if they could take him to the Vlaardingen 2）canal， so he could be by the water and say a final goodbye to 3）Rotterdam harbour. It was a sunny day， and they stayed on the 4）dockside for nearly an hour. “Tears of joy ran over his face，” says Veldboer. “When I asked him： ‘Would you like to have the opportunity to sail again？’ he said it would be impossible because he lay on a stretcher.”
Veldboer was determined to make this man’s last wish come true. He asked his boss if he could borrow an ambulance on his day off， recruited the help of a colleague and contacted a firm that does boat tours around Rotterdam harbour—they were all happy to help， and the following Friday， to Stefanutto’s astonishment， the ambulance driver turned up at his hospital bedside to take him sailing.
That was the 5）genesis of the Ambulance Wish Foundation. Veldboer and his wife Ineke， a nurse， started it at their kitchen table eight years ago. Now it has 230 volunteers， six ambulances and a holiday home， and is fast approaching 7，000 fulfilled wishes. On average， the charity helps four people a day—they can be any age and the only 6）stipulation is that patients are terminally ill and can’t be transported other than on a stretcher.
Although other charities offer terminally ill patients a day out， the Ambulance Wish Foundation was the first to provide an ambulance and full medical back-up. There is always a fully-trained nurse on board， and the specialist drivers tend to come from the police and fire brigades. The specially-designed ambulances have a view， and every patient receives a teddy bear called Mario， named after Stefanutto.
“It gives us volunteers so much satisfaction to see people enjoying themselves，” says Roel Foppen， a former soldier who acts as a driver. Over the past six years he has helped to fulfil 300 wishes.
Once he went as far as Romania， a 4，500km roundtrip. It was for a woman called Nadja， who had lived in the Netherlands for 12 years. Her children， aged three and seven， were already back in Romania with her family， and she wanted to go there to die.
“She was so ill we couldn’t even touch her，” says Foppen. They left on a Thursday morning， but as they were driving through Germany Nadja’s condition 7）deteriorated， so they stopped at a hospital. Doctors recommended Nadja stay there， but she wanted to see her children—and her wish was what counted. After a three-hour delay they carried on， through Austria， then Hungary—when they reached the Romanian border， Nadja said， “Take the stretcher out， now I can die！”
Foppen said， “It’s just another 600km to your mother and your children—could you 8）hang on just a little longer？” On the Saturday the ambulance arrived in 9）Bucharest for an emotional reunion. Then the crew drove back， leaving Nadja behind. Her family sent a card to say she died two weeks later.
“If people know we’re coming， they find new reserves of energy，” says Foppen. “Often the family tell us they were about to cancel because the patient was so ill， but when we arrive they are 10）beaming， ready for their day out.”
Knot， who works as a 11）district nurse. She first came across the charity when she was invited along by a cancer patient she had grown close to. The experience made Knot so enthusiastic she wrote to Veldboer to offer her services.
“Every time is special. You discuss it with your colleagues on the way home and it’s always special， no matter how small，” says Knot. “I had one lady who just wanted a glass of advocaat （a thick egg liqueur） at home. So her son bought a bottle， we went to her house， she spooned up the advocaat and we went back. That was her wish.”
“People ask， ‘Isn’t it draining？ Isn’t it emotional， always dealing with last wishes？’ Yes it is， but often people are ready to die because they are so far down the line， and then it’s nice to give them something they really want，” she says.
Frans Lepelaar is a former policeman who now drives for the charity. After 20 years behind a desk， investigating 12）fraud， he wanted to get back to helping people face-toface.
“It can be a long day—you could be back in the middle of the night. We always ask， ‘Do you want anything more？’ They’re always grateful. That’s what you do it for，” he says.
In 2014， Lepelaar and his colleague Olaf Exoo took Mario， a 54-year-old man with learning difficulties， to say a final goodbye to his colleagues at Rotterdam Zoo， where he had worked for 25 years. At the end of his shift as a maintenance man he used to always visit the animals， and they took him on his rounds one last time.
When they reached the giraffe 13）enclosure they were invited in， and it was then that one of the more curious giraffes came over and gave Mario a lick on the face. He was too ill to speak， but his face lit up， says Exoo， whose photograph of the “giraffe’s kiss” made headlines.
“It’s intense， but that’s why it’s interesting，” says Mirjam Lok， a 25-year-old nurse. “You don’t know who you’ll meet when you walk through the door， and at the end of the day you have fulfilled their last wish， you close the door and you think—that was good.”
Following the huge success of his venture， Veldboer has helped to set up similar ambulance services abroad， first in Israel—after taking a Jewish woman to Jerusalem， where she wanted to die—then in Belgium， Germany and Sweden.
A practical， no-nonsense man， he admits that setting up the foundation has given him confidence. “I used to think I didn’t amount to much， but then I discovered my ideas aren’t that bad after all. I’ve learned that if you follow your heart and do things your own way， people will support you.”
“I’m just a very ordinary Dutch guy who does what he likes best， and my hobby is helping others.”
“我了解到将死之人的心里都有一些小小的心愿。”凯斯·韦德波尔说，他就是那个成立了“救护车许愿基金会”的救护车司机。
2006年11月，他当时正准备把一位重病晚期病人马里奥·斯特法努托转移到另一间医院。但正当他们把病人抬到担架上时，他们被告知转移工作将会延迟——接收医院还没准备好。斯特法努托不想再回到病床上，他之前已经在那里躺了三个月，所以韦德波尔问他有没有什么想去的地方。
这位退休的水手问他们可否带他去符拉尔丁根运河，这样他就能在岸边与鹿特丹海港作最后的道别。那是个阳光明媚的日子，他们在码头边上待了将近一个小时。“欣慰的泪水划过他的脸庞。”韦德波尔说道。“我问他：‘你希望有机会再次航海吗？’他说那是不可能的，因为他躺在担架上。”
韦德波尔决心要帮助这个男人实现最后的愿望。于是他问上司，他可否在放假时借用一辆救护车，请来一位同事帮忙，并联系一家提供游览鹿特丹海港服务的游船公司——他们都很乐意提供帮助。所以在接下来的星期五，斯特法努托大吃一惊，因为韦德波尔这位救护车司机出现在他的病床边，说要带他去航海。
这就是“救护车许愿基金会”成立的起源。八年前，韦德波尔和他那位当护士的妻子伊奈可在厨房的餐桌上谈起要建立这个基金会。如今，该基金会已经拥有230名志愿者，六台救护车以及一间假日别墅。此外，该基金会已经帮助病患实现将近7000个愿望。“救护车许愿基金会”一天平均帮助四个人实现愿望——受助者的年龄不限，唯一的条件是他们必须是绝症病人，且只能通过担架才可行动。 虽然许多慈善机构都会给绝症病人提供一天的外出时间，但是“救护车许愿基金会”却是第一个给病人提供救护车以及全面的医疗支持的慈善机构。病人身边总有一位训练有素的护士在一旁陪同，司机大多是专业的警察和消防队员。专门设计的救护车可以让病人看到车外的景象，每个病人都会收到一只叫马里奥的泰迪熊，是以斯特法努托的名字命名的。
“看到人们心满意足的样子，我们志愿者心里也有很大的成就感。”罗埃尔·弗朋说道。他以前是一名军人，现在是基金会的司机。在过去的六年里，他已经帮助人们实现了300个愿望。
有一次，他去到遥远的罗马尼亚，往返路程为4500公里。那次行程是为了帮助一名叫娜蒂尔的女人，她在荷兰居住了12年。她的两个孩子，一个三岁，一个七岁，已经回去罗马尼亚和她家人住在一起。她想回到那儿，在那儿死去。
“她病得很严重，我们甚至不能触碰她。”弗朋说道。他们在一个星期四的早上出发，但当他们开车穿过德国时，娜蒂尔的病情恶化了，所以他们停在一家医院里。医生建议娜蒂尔留在医院里，但她想见见自己的孩子们——而她的心愿才是最重要的。在耽搁了三个小时后，他们继续上路，他们穿过了奥地利和匈牙利——当他们到达罗马尼亚的边境时，娜蒂尔说：“把担架拿开，我现在可以死去了！”
弗朋对她说：“只要再多走600公里，你就能回到你妈妈和孩子身边了——你能再坚持多一会儿吗？”救护车在星期六到达了布加勒斯特，他们迎来了一次激动人心的团聚。然后救护车队就挥别了娜蒂尔，开车驶回荷兰。两周后，她的家人寄来一张卡片，说她去世了。
“如果人们知道我们要来，他们就会有新的动力。”弗朋说。“病人的家属经常跟我们说他们快要取消申请了，因为病人的情况已经很严重，但当我们来到时，他们都很开心，已经为他们的外出做好准备。”
诺特是一名乡村巡回护士。她初次邂逅“救护车许愿基金会”是因为一位与她关系亲密的癌症病人，那位病人邀请她同行。那次的经历让诺特很激动，于是她给韦德波尔写信，表示她愿意提供志愿服务。
“每一次的经历都很特别。你与同事在回家的路上讨论，无论整件事多么微不足道，给人的感受总是很特别。”诺特说。“我见过一位女士，她的心愿只是要一杯家乡的蛋黄酒（一种强烈的鸡蛋酒精饮料）。所以她儿子买了一瓶回来，我们去到她的家，她把蛋黄酒打开，然后我们就回去了。那是她的心愿。”
“人们问：‘这种工作不累吗？不难受吗？总要接触别人的遗愿？”是的，确实如此，但对于那些早已病入膏肓，不抱希望的人们，我们能在这个时候给予他们真正想要的东西，很棒。”她说道。
法兰斯·莱帕勒以前是一名警察，现在是基金会的司机。之前的20年他都是坐在办公桌前调查诈骗案，现在，他想面对面地帮助人们。
“也许要花上漫长的一天——你可能要在午夜才能回家。我们总会这样问：‘你还有什么心愿吗？’他们总是很感激。这就是你参加这种工作的动力。”他说道。
2014年，莱帕勒和他的同事奥拉夫·亚克斯欧护送马里奥回去鹿特丹动物园与他的同事作最后的道别。马里奥当时54岁，患有学习障碍症，他已经在鹿特丹动物园工作了25年。在他当维修员的最后那些日子里，他常常去看望动物们。而在他最后一次看望它们时，它们围在了他的身边。
当他们到达长颈鹿生活区时，他们受到了长颈鹿群的邀请，就在那时，一头更具好奇心的长颈鹿走了过来，舔了舔马里奥的脸。他病得太严重了，无法开口说话，但他把脸抬了起来，据亚克斯欧说。亚克斯欧拍的照片“长颈鹿的吻别”成为了头条新闻。
“这让人很紧张，但这正是这份工作的有趣之处。”米莉亚姆·洛克说道，她25岁，是一名护士。“你不知道走进门后会遇到谁，而在一天结束后，你已经帮助他们实现了心愿，你关上房门，想到——那真棒。”
继“救护车许愿基金会”在荷兰取得巨大成功后，韦德波尔又在国外帮助成立了类似的救护车服务，首先是在以色列——在帮助护送一位犹太女人去耶路撒冷后，她想在那里结束自己的生命旅程——然后是比利时，德国和瑞典。
韦德波尔是一个实际而理智的人，他承认成立这个基金会给予了他信心。“我曾经以为自己无所作为，但后来我发现我的想法并没有那么糟糕。我认识到如果你跟随自己的心，做自己想做的事，别人也会支持你的。”
“我只是一个很普通的荷兰人，我只是在做自己最喜欢做的事，我的爱好就是帮助别人。”