Det sneede let, da Mikkel steg om bord på toget mod Aarhus.

It was snowing lightly as Mikkel boarded the train to Aarhus.

Han så ud ad vinduet, mens landskabet gled forbi—snedækkede marker og frostbelagte træer.

He looked out the window as the landscape passed by—snow-covered fields and frost-laden trees.

På sædet ved siden af ham lå hans skitsebog.

On the seat beside him lay his sketchbook.

Den var fyldt med tegninger og hemmeligheder, som kun han kendte.

It was filled with drawings and secrets that only he knew.

Mikkel var på vej til Aarhus Universitetshospital.

Mikkel was on his way to Aarhus Universitetshospital.

Hans bedstemor, Kerstin, var indlagt der.

His grandmother, Kerstin, was hospitalized there.

Hun havde altid en varm kop te klar, når Mikkel besøgte hende.

She always had a warm cup of tea ready when Mikkel visited her.

Men nu var det hans tur til at besøge hende i noget mindre hyggelige omgivelser.

But now it was his turn to visit her in somewhat less cozy surroundings.

Lars, Mikkels far, havde insisteret på, at han også skulle vælge en karriere inden for medicin, lige som resten af familien.

Lars, Mikkel's father, had insisted that he also choose a career in medicine, just like the rest of the family.

Men Mikkel havde en anden drøm.

But Mikkel had a different dream.

Han ønskede at tegne.

He wanted to draw.

Malerier, skulpturer—alt, hvad der kunne skabe et billede i hans sind.

Paintings, sculptures—anything that could create an image in his mind.

Men dette var en hemmelighed, han kun delte med sin skitsebog.

But this was a secret he only shared with his sketchbook.

I hospitalet var lyset skarpt og gangene rolige.

In the hospital, the light was bright and the corridors were quiet.

Det eneste, man kunne høre, var bippen fra maskinerne.

The only sound was the beeping of the machines.

Mikkels hjerte hamrede, da han nærmede sig sin bedstemors stue.

Mikkel's heart pounded as he approached his grandmother’s room.

Indenfor lå hun i en blød seng, omgivet af hvide, rengjorte vægge og en stor vindueskarm med udsigt til den sneprydede gård.

Inside, she lay in a soft bed, surrounded by white, sanitized walls and a large windowsill with a view of the snow-covered courtyard.

"Hej, bedstemor," sagde Mikkel blidt, da han trådte ind.

"Hello, grandmother," Mikkel said gently as he entered.

Kerstin smilede, men hendes ansigt var præget af sygdommen.

Kerstin smiled, but her face was marked by illness.

"Hej, min dreng.

"Hello, my boy.

Hvor er det godt at se dig," sagde hun med en svag stemme.

It’s so good to see you," she said in a weak voice.

De talte om løst og fast, mens Mikkel nervøst kiggede på sin skitsebog.

They talked about small matters while Mikkel nervously looked at his sketchbook.

Så med et dybt åndedrag åbnede han den og viste sine tegninger.

Then, with a deep breath, he opened it and showed her his drawings.

"Dette er, hvad jeg elsker at lave," sagde han og viste hende et billede af en gård badet i vinterens skarpe lys.

"This is what I love to do," he said, showing her a picture of a farm bathed in the sharp light of winter.

"Jeg vil gerne tegne, bedstemor.

"I want to draw, grandmother.

Men jeg vil også gøre familien stolt."

But I also want to make the family proud."

Kerstin så på tegningerne, og et varmt smil spredte sig over hendes ansigt.

Kerstin looked at the drawings, and a warm smile spread across her face.

"Mikkel, når vi følger vores hjerte, gør vi altid vores familie stolt," sagde hun.

"Mikkel, when we follow our hearts, we always make our family proud," she said.

"Jeg plejede at drømme om at male, da jeg var yngre."

"I used to dream of painting when I was younger."

Overrasket og lettet var Mikkel stille et øjeblik.

Surprised and relieved, Mikkel was silent for a moment.

"Virkelig?"

"Really?"

spurgte han.

he asked.

"Ja, virkelig," svarede hun og klappede hans hånd.

"Yes, really," she replied, patting his hand.

"Gør det, der gør dig lykkelig, min dreng."

"Do what makes you happy, my boy."

Med sin bedstemors ord følte Mikkel en ny styrke vokse inden i ham.

With his grandmother's words, Mikkel felt a new strength growing inside him.

Han indså, at han kunne ære sin families forventninger og samtidig forfølge sine drømme.

He realized he could honor his family's expectations while also pursuing his dreams.

Da han forlod sygehuset, var hans skridt lettere, og hans skitsebog endnu mere dyrebar i hans hænder.

As he left the hospital, his steps felt lighter, and his sketchbook even more precious in his hands.

Vintervinden hyllede udenfor, men indeni følte han sig varm og forstået.

The winter wind howled outside, but inside he felt warm and understood.

Mikkel var klar til at tage skridtet mod sin fremtid, nu opmuntret af sin bedstemors kærlige støtte.

Mikkel was ready to take the step towards his future, now encouraged by his grandmother's loving support.