In those darkest moments of isolation, my mind reaches out and seeks some inspiration. The inspiration that reinforces just how much I have to be grateful for.
My mind drifted back, drifted back to a time, so very long ago. Into our lives came a family with an amazing little boy. A clever little boy with a ready smile and a zest for life I've seldom seen. With a cheerful demeanour, he recited his very own poetry. Of being black and blue from where the needles went in. Of being a "human pincushion". This little boy, this inspirational and brave little boy, was suffering with the evil onslaught of leukaemia.
Then one day we got the news. This little boy who touched the hearts of all he met, had drifted off to sleep, never to awaken again. And I look beyond the sky, think of that little boy, thank that little boy, who cherished the wonders of life. The tears are streaming down my face. He was five years old.