One of the worse things is cancer, even more so when it’s concerning children.
Jonathan and Shelby thought that their daughter, Sophie, who is two years old, was suffering from allergies. She was finding it hard to breathe and her doctor thought it might be asthma. Unfortunately, it was soon going to be evident that it was much worse!
The little girl, Sophie was set to have an allergy test a few day later, but she didn’t get to take that test.
One night she stopped breathing…
For every parent it’s a worse case scenario, Her parents ran to call an ambulance and within minutes they were on their way to the hospital.
It was just at that moment that doctors finally confirmed that Sophie had a condition that was much worse than just asthma or allergies. She had developed cancer, a T-cell lymphoma.
Sophie has since then spent many months in hospital having chemotherapy, even though fighting it hard the cancer spread.
The treatment affected her ability to talk, walk, use her hands to eat, her tiny body is going through the preparations for a stem cell operation.
Shelby is keeping a constant watch over her daughter and is by her side constantly. So many times Shelby forgets to take care of herself, it’s just the only thought she has, to get Sophie better!
Jonathan and Shelby have created a Facebook page to record Sophie’s fight against the disease, they want friends and family alike to have an easy method to see updates on how Sophie is getting along. The page is called Sophie The Brave.
It’s not just family that follows the page, there are over 12,000 people following Sophie’s fight.
There is one post on the page that has especially been welcomed. Moms with sick children will also relate, very likely, to what Shelby’s said.
Shelby wrote:
“I see you. I sit on this couch all day long and, I see you. You try so hard to be unnoticed by me and my child. I see your face drop a little when she sees you and cries. You try so many ways to ease her fears and win her over. I see you hesitate to stick her or pull bandaids off. You say ‘No owies’ and ‘I’m sorry’ more times in one day than most people say ‘thank you’..”
“I see all of those rubber bracelets on your arms and wrapped around your stethoscope, each one for a child that you’ve cared for and loved. I see you stroke her little bald head and tuck her covers around her tightly. I see you holding the crying mom that got bad news.I see you trying to chart on the computer while holding the baby whose mom can’t-or won’t be at the hospital with her.”
“You put aside what’s happening in your life for 12 hours straight to care for very sick and something’s dying children. You go into each room with a smile no matter what’s happening in there. You see Sophie’s name on the schedule and come to check on us even when she isn’t your patient. You call the doctor, blood bank, and pharmacy as many times as necessary to get my child what she needs in a timely manner. You check on me as often as you check on her. You sit and listen to me ramble for 10 minutes even though your phone is buzzing and your to do list is a mile long.
“I see you. We all see you. No amount of snack baskets or cards can fully express how appreciated you are. You are Jesus to us every single day. Our children wouldn’t get what they need without you. Moms like me wouldn’t feel sane or heard without you. You save our babies and we couldn’t do this without you.”
Shelby got 26,000 likes on her post, its easy to see and understand why, all the amazing people at the hospital, the nurses, all deserve to be thanked and recognized for their great work.
Let’s all hope and pray that Sophie makes a fast recovery, and as it happens the family got some really great news, Sophie’s cancer is almost all gone!
Let’s also share Shelby’s words about the nursery and hospital staff so that more and more people can hear about the amazing work they do.
I Returned Home from My Daughter’s Funeral to Find a Tent in My Backyard — I Went Pale at What I Found Inside
After burying her eight-year-old daughter, Lily, Ashley returns home, drowning in grief and exhaustion. But something unexpected awaits in her backyard, pulling her out of the numbness and forcing her to confront a mystery she never could have anticipated.
I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, even though I thought I was. They said it would be peaceful at the end, and maybe it was for Lily. But for me, the pain cut deeper than anything I could imagine. My little girl was gone, and I didn’t know how to make sense of a world without her in it.
A grieving woman | Source: Pexels
It’s been a week since we laid her to rest. The days leading up to her death were a blur of hospital beds, whispered prayers, and the slow, cruel slipping away of her laughter. Today, we buried her, but it didn’t feel real. I moved through the funeral like a shadow of myself. Family and friends came, faces blurred by my tears.
“Ashley, I’m so sorry,” Aunt Ruth said, wrapping me in her arms. Her perfume was too strong. I didn’t want to be hugged. I just wanted Lily.
Two grieving women hugging | Source: Pexels
“She was such a light,” someone else added. I nodded, but I couldn’t really hear them.
All I could think of was Lily’s laugh. How her little giggle could fill a room. I’d never hear it again. That thought crushed me more than anything. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out.
A silent woman looking at a headstone | Source: Pexels
As people filtered out, offering their condolences, I just kept staring at the empty chair where Lily should’ve been. My body felt heavy, like I was dragging myself through mud, and my mind kept wandering back to her final days.
“Let me know if you need anything,” a voice said as I walked out of the cemetery. I nodded but didn’t respond. What could anyone do?
A crying, grieving woman | Source: Pexels
The drive home was silent. I couldn’t turn on the radio—music felt wrong, somehow. I just wanted quiet. The kind of quiet where you can pretend the world stopped with your grief.
When I pulled into the driveway, I wasn’t even sure how I got there. I sat in the car for a minute, staring at the house, trying to gather the energy to go inside. I didn’t want to face that empty space. Not without her.
But something stopped me before I could get out.
A woman driving at night | Source: Pexels
There, in the backyard, was a tent.
A huge, brightly colored tent. The kind you’d see at a circus. Red and yellow stripes, with little flags fluttering at the top. It didn’t make sense. My heart jumped into my throat.
“What… is that?” I whispered to myself.
A bright tent | Source: Pexels
I blinked, rubbed my eyes. Maybe I was hallucinating. Grief does strange things to people, right? I was exhausted and emotionally drained. But no, the tent was still there. Bold, bright, and out of place. It was like a splash of color in a black-and-white world.
I got out of the car slowly, my legs feeling like they might give way at any second. Who would put a tent in my yard? And on today, of all days? My head spun with questions. Was this some sort of prank? Or had I completely lost it?
A shocked woman | Source: Freepik
I walked closer, every step feeling heavier than the last. The wind picked up, rustling the colorful flags on top of the tent. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst.
“This can’t be real,” I muttered, clenching my fists.
A sad, thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels
But it was real. As I got closer, I could see the details—the stitching on the fabric, the wooden stakes holding it in place. My mind raced. There was no note, no sign of who had put it there or why.
I reached out, my hand trembling as I touched the flap of the tent. It felt solid, real. My stomach twisted. I didn’t want to open it, but I had to know what was inside.
A huge lit up tent | Source: Unsplash
With a deep breath, I gripped the edge of the flap and pulled it open.
I opened it slowly, my breath shallow, heart racing. Inside, there was something bundled up in the middle of the space. For a second, my mind couldn’t make sense of it. It was wrapped in a blanket, small and still. My stomach twisted, and I couldn’t stop the flood of memories that hit me all at once.
A small blanket with something inside | Source: Midjourney
Lily, lying in the hospital bed. So pale. So fragile. The tubes, the machines. I remember her tiny body swallowed by the blankets, the way she barely moved in those last few days. My knees nearly buckled under the weight of it all.
“No,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “No, not again…”
I took a step forward, my whole body shaking. The sight in front of me felt like another cruel joke, like the world was mocking me. Why today? Why now?
A scared woman | Source: Pexels
Suddenly, the bundle moved.
I gasped, freezing in place. My heart pounded so loud I could hear it in my ears. For a split second, I didn’t know what to do. My mind spun, expecting the worst, preparing for more pain.
A blanket in a tent | Source: Midjourney
But then, a small head popped out from under the blanket. A tiny Labrador puppy, its fur soft and golden like sunlight. It blinked up at me with wide, curious eyes, a pink bow tied around its neck. My breath caught in my throat. I stared, completely overwhelmed.
“What… what are you doing here?” I whispered, my voice cracking.
A small Labrador puppy | Source: Unsplash
The puppy wiggled out of the blanket and stumbled toward me, wagging its little tail. It was so full of life, so innocent, a stark contrast to the grief that had consumed me for so long. I knelt down slowly, reaching out to touch the soft fur, still in disbelief. My fingers trembled as they brushed against the puppy’s coat, warm and alive.
Tears welled up in my eyes. “Why is there a puppy here? Who did this?” My voice broke, the confusion mixing with the heavy sadness I had carried all day.
A sad tearful woman | Source:Freepik
As I stroked the puppy, I noticed something else—an envelope tucked under the blanket. My heart skipped a beat. With shaking hands, I picked it up and stared at it for a moment. The handwriting on the front was familiar. My breath hitched as I recognized it. Lily’s handwriting. Messy, but hers.
Tears blurred my vision as I carefully opened the envelope. Inside was a note, short and simple. My hands shook as I read the words.
An envelope with a note | Source: Pexels
“Dear Mommy,
I know you’re sad because I had to go to heaven. But I wanted to leave you something to help you smile again. I asked Daddy to get you a puppy, so you’ll have someone to cuddle with when you’re missing me. Her name is Daisy, and she loves to play! Please take care of her for me. I’ll always be with you, watching from above. I love you so much.
Love, Lily.”
A child writing a letter | Source: Pexels
I dropped to my knees, clutching the note to my chest. The tears came in waves, and I couldn’t stop them. I cried harder than I had at the funeral. Harder than I had since the moment I knew I was losing her.
“Lily…” I sobbed, my voice barely a whisper.
A close-up shot of a crying woman | Source: Pexels
Even in her final days, my sweet little girl had been thinking of me. She knew. She knew how much I’d miss her, how much it would hurt. And she found a way to make sure I wouldn’t be alone. A puppy. A new life to care for, to love.
I held Daisy close, the warmth of her little body grounding me in the moment. I could still feel Lily’s presence. The tent, the puppy—it was all part of her last gift to me. A way to remind me that even though she was gone, her love would always be with me.
A labrador puppy looking up | Source: Freepik
The tent didn’t feel so strange anymore. It was a place for me to find Daisy, a place to feel connected to Lily one more time.
Over the next few days, Daisy became my shadow. She followed me everywhere, her tiny paws tapping on the floor as she scampered after me. At first, I didn’t know what to do. How could I care for this puppy when my heart was so shattered?
A sad woman hugging herself | Source: Pexels
But Daisy didn’t give me much choice. She’d nuzzle into my side when I was curled up on the couch, licking my hand until I smiled through my tears. She’d bounce around with her little pink bow, full of energy and joy, reminding me of the brightness Lily used to bring.
Every morning, I’d sit with my coffee, Daisy at my feet, and I’d think of Lily. I’d imagine her watching over me, her smile still lighting up the sky. And every time Daisy curled up in my lap, I felt a piece of Lily’s love wrapping around me.
a woman with her dog | Source: Pexels
Daisy wasn’t a replacement. Nothing could ever replace my Lily. But she was a part of her. A living, breathing reminder of the love Lily left behind. Slowly, day by day, the weight on my chest lightened, just a little.
Taking care of Daisy pulled me out of the fog I’d been in. I had to get up, feed her, play with her. She needed me, just like Lily had known I’d need her.
A smiling woman with her dog | Source: Pexels
Lily had given me one final gift: a reason to keep going. And even though the pain of losing her would never fully go away, I knew now that I wasn’t facing it alone.
Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: A splitting headache sent me home early, and I hoped for a quiet afternoon alone. But seeing my daughter, who should’ve been at school, and her stepdad behind that closed door shook me to my core. What I discovered tore my heart in two and left me in tears.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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