Make-A-Wish; View From a Different Angle

By Troy Foster

For years, I’ve been involved in the Make-A-Wish Foundation.  I was an active Board Member for the Arizona, founding chapter.  And, I worked hands on in helping grant children’s wishes.  I was extremely passionate about it – these wishes were for the kids and their families, and seemed to serve as a brief respite for the reality of their child’s condition.

My how perspectives change.  Last week, I attended a Make-A-Wish event at a big corporate sponsor’s facility.  It was their kick off to raise money to fulfill 15 wishes this year!  Great goal; and I used to speak to companies like this on behalf of our Board of Directors.

This time was very different.  Instead of speaking on behalf of a Board, I was there with my son Henry.  His wish will be granted next month.  After talking him out of his original wish – to take his sister to China so that she could see where she is from (and to capture a live dragon) – we’re headed to DisneyWorld.  Henry is so excited.  We all are.  (Quick video clip below Henry talking about it!)

That’s where things fell apart for me last week.  When I would give these talks, listen to them, or hear about families going on their wish, I always had a sense of sadness.  An observation that the family’s excitement seems to ignore the reality of what is before them – after the wish.  The fact that they’re on a wish is bad overall – do they know that?  Is the denial part of what the wish helps with?  Those thoughts would cross my mind, I’m ashamed to say.  Because, as someone who hadn’t gone through it, I had missed the point.

These families know what lies ahead.  They don’t need to be reminded.  What they need is, and what the wish provides, is a break.  A break from appointments, treatments, tears, and worries.  And, most importantly, a time to see their kids just be a kid. 

I thought that I was ready, but wasn’t.  I thought that I could go to an event for a foundation that I love, on many levels, and would be just fine.  Not the case.  That’s a good thing, I think. The wish, to us, isn’t a swan song for little Henry.  Just like it wasn’t for all of the parents that I saw (wearing my other hat) and assumed that it was.  It’s a time that we get to have our little Henry focus only on being a kid.  And we don’t have to worry (we probably still will but that’s us) about things.  But affording it (which we couldn’t), planning it (which seems burdensome), and pushing off doctors’ appointments (which we are) – are all things that the wish affords us as a family.

And we know well that when we get back, the reality will still be here.  In fact, our older son (who has the same condition as Henry but is asymptomatic right now) sprung on us over the weekend “We’d better start thinking about my wish.”  But for seven days and the weeks and months that have led up to it, we can put those things aside and live in the here and now.

Not bad advice for anyone really.

If you would like to read more inspirational stories about Henry and Henry’s Hope, please check out the book Three Candles (www.threecandlesbook.com).  Part of the proceeds go to Henry’s Hope (www.henryshope.org).