The Nursery Nursing College in Clifton, Bristol was an old dilapidated, yet atmospheric, building at the end of a terrace, close to the Clifton Suspension Bridge. The stairs creaked and the corridors were narrow and dark. During the two-year training period for the NNEB qualification, we studied health, education, environmental studies, cookery, english, art, craft, music, movement, swimming and first aid. The experiences shared in this article reflect the work and contribution of the nursery nurse. Once qualified, I worked as a ‘spare’ nursery nurse in a children’s hospital. Every day I consulted the nursing office as to which ward required me most and gained much experience moving between the different wards. My first shift, for a period of five hours in the evening, was spent in the company of a trained Norland nursery nurse. I was ‘in at the deep end’ sitting beside a sleeping four-year-old boy with an intracranial tumour. This first experience with a terminally ill child and his Cheynestokes breathing remains with me still. Early in my career a three-year-old boy, who had been diagnosed with a nephroblastoma, approached me asking for a Marmite sandwich. He was subject to a very strict diet with his daily liquid input and output carefully measured, so I was told to refuse his request. He told me I was ‘mean’, and sadly he died while in the operating theatre. I spent many hours after that wondering whether I should have granted him his last request.