Let A Child Still Be A Child

I’m still a child but lately, I have learned how to tell when my mom has been crying her eyes are

red, her voice sounds different.

She waits until she thinks I’m asleep before she whispers to God. I hear her say, “Please... just

let me keep my baby.”And I pretend I don’t hear her.

Because I don’t know what to say I don’t know how to make my mom stop crying I don’t even

know how to make myself stop being scared. The doctors call me brave.But sometimes, I don’t

feel brave at all. Sometimes I just want to go home. I want my mom to tuck me into my own bed

instead of a hospital bed.I want my dad to stop looking at the clock. I want everyone to stop

whispering. I want to be worried about homework again.

I want to run outside until my mom yells, “Come inside!”

I want to grow up. I want to graduate. I want my parents sitting in the crowd, crying happy tears

while I walk across that stage. I want to fall in love. I want to have a family of my own. I want to

someday look back at this little hospital bracelet and say, “I made it.” But right now, my

backpack sits untouched by the door. My favorite shoes are waiting beside my bed and my

childhood is waiting for me.

So please...

When you see a child fighting cancer, see the child first. See the dreams hiding underneath the

diagnosis, see the birthday they still want to celebrate. See the school picture they still want to

take. See the future they’re still fighting to reach. Give them laughter when the days feel heavy.

Give their parents strength when they feel helpless. Give researchers the support to keep

searching for better treatments, better answers, and someday, a cure.

Because cancer may interrupt childhood...

but it does not get to write the ending.

There can still be birthdays, still be first days of school, still be dreams whispered at bedtime.

Still be futures we haven’t imagined yet.

And with love, support, research, and hope, there can still be a tomorrow.

A tomorrow where the hospital bracelet could come off.

Where the medicine stops.

Where the laughter gets louder.

Where a child gets to run, dream, grow, and simply be a child again.

Because every child deserves more than a fight for survival. They deserve the chance to live

the beautiful life waiting for them.

And maybe one day...

that little voice will finally get to say:

“Mom, I made it.”