these little warrior's
they are the warrior's though tiny by far,
who won't let cancer, change who they are.
to battle this demon, they'll go that extra mile,
with giggles and laughter and great big smiles.
yes these are the warrior's, so brave and so true,
to have one more day, with me and with you.
they are more wise then the years, that they'll never be.
they know words like remission and chemo, needle's and iv's.
this cancer it comes, like a thief in the night,
but these little warriors are ready to fight.
some go to battle and sometimes they don't win,
the pain for them is over but ours just begins.
these little warriors need a drug that will end,
this war they've been fighting, this cancer within.
they need to be able to be children again ,
to laugh and to play with their family and friends.
not lie in a hospital with tubes up their nose,
that's not how the story of these warriors goes.
how can this country have such knowledge on war,
yet we can't end the one, that their fighting for.
by Gloria Collins
CANCER.
I cried when I saw kids with Cancer. I was about to cry. haha. They are the strongest kids I've ever known. I was just keep searching and scrolling, everything about Cancer. I saw a lot of pictures of them, with no hair. But they're still look fine and happy. And that's makes me speechless. Things that makes me proud of them are.. they have strength and courage to fighting cancer I just found a lot of web who talks about Cancer, even allowing them to share their stories. You can check it HERE. There is one story that makes me interested. It was written by a mother for her daughter, Amber, she had Rhabdomyosarcoma. Here it is...
Amber knew why she was sent to earth. A few days before she died, she called me to her side and told me, "Mom, I KNOW I'm here to help a lot of people." Although she said many wise and wonderful things in her 4 1/2 years, I was astounded. From the moment she was born, I knew I was "chosen" to be Amber's mother but the reason why was unclear. I documented our life together and especially her journey through cancer with recordings, movies, photos, media coverage, her drawings, and a journal. It helped me cope, gave me purpose, and ensured that her life and death would have meaning, even after she died. Having found Bernie Siegel to care for her, I was blessed beyond words. He helped us help her "cross the threshold" between life and death. Her death was miraculous. The moment she stopped breathing, I physically felt God... the Higher Power... the world that we cannot see with our eyes. Amber died on my 27th birthday in 1980. Before she died, she gave me the most precious gift I've ever received: The secret to what happens after our body dies. "Mom, when I die, I'll still be Amber, I'll just be DIFFERENT." Knowing that, I did not "lose a child," she did not "pass away." She simply changed. She is with me now, but different.
For most of the 30+ years since she died, this "gift" has comforted me, given me the strength to help others, and sustained me as I dug deep to call up the feelings and emotions I needed to write "Embrace the Angel." It is now published and I am ready to, once again, reach out and spread Amber's message of "hope, heaven, and the miracle of life and death." But there is one thing holding me back. It is not her death, it is cancer. It is not the fact that she was "killed," is the the "murderer." I am trying to "wrap myself around" this horrible disease that kills so many of our loved ones. I must find peace and understanding while working to bring people together, raise awareness, and facilitate change in the "Cancer World." But how? Perhaps returning to the moment in time when my "Life Task" is the answer. After she died at home, we took her body to St. Raphael's Hospital in New Haven, CT. Bernie called ahead to make the arrangements. Excerpt from Chapter 14, Crossing the Threshold: "I walked towards the automatic doors, her lifeless body swaying to my step. Beyond the parting doors, I could see a crowd. Nurses, doctors, secretaries, visitors, priests, and nuns had gathered there to pay their last respects to this little girl—their little girl—who had fought so bravely to the very end. At once, I could see I wasn't alone, that they had suffered, too. They had hoped for her recovery, prayed for her life, and watched along with me as she slowly and painfully died. Many were crying. Their grief forced them to turn to each other for comfort. I felt no pangs of sadness or sorrow; I still felt the glory of God. I was at peace, and so was my baby. Dr. Raine, a young intern, directed us to a small room that was separated from the Emergency Room by a curtain. I placed her body on the stretcher and studied it... absorbing every inch... filling my mind with the memory of Amber. "Perfect feet... hands... lips... eyes..." I stopped at the tumor. I moved closer to inspect it. Since she wasn't there and could feel no pain, I shook it. It felt like gelatin: Soft, powerless, sickening. It was enormous; nearly the same size as her head. "How can something so pathetic... so ugly... kill my beautiful little girl?!?!" Just under my skin, seething rage was coursing through my veins. In my mind, I could see a battlefield strewn with the bodies of all the other children who had died before Amber and the bodies of children yet to come. Instantly, I felt as though I'd been injected with a tranquilizer. My hatred gave way to a new understanding.
"Don't waste your life hating. Your time on this earth is too short. Take her message...take MY message to the world. WRITE THE BOOK. Save the others." I took a vow: "I will."
In Indonesia it happens too to Gita Sesa Wanda Cantika or Keke, the story told in Surat Kecil Untuk Tuhan(pic above) book and movie. She had Rhabdomyosarcoma, like Amber and the other strong kids. I've thoughts that maybe they're now gathered in heaven, with no cancer. Because God has took it, as Amber's mom said, "It's not her dead, it's cancer". They must be happy now, beside God. I remember when someone write on Twitter that Cancer kids need Barbie with no hair, so they'll never feel alone. And I found this on Google. Well maybe I was too late to write this article, but we're never too late to help them fighting Cancer.
Readers, you can visit this web, YKAKI (Yayasan Kasih Anak Kanker Indonesia)
"I hope there would be a day that cancer is just a horoscope."
(picture was took from Google)
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