I received a message on Facebook last week via "Status Update" about a little boy named Noah Biorkman. This one little blurb has been on my mind since, and then today I came across a Facebook Event Invitation from another Facebook friend sharing further details of his story. http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/event.php?eid=177509260842&ref=mf
Little Noah is a 5 year old from South Lyon, MI who has been fighting Neuroblastoma, the most common cancer in childhood and infancy [according to Wikipedia], since he was diagnosed in February of 2007. A long fight for a child so young! He was declared to be in remission in August 2007. Unfortunately, his family was recently told, following a relapse in September 2008 and six different trials to prevent the cancer from spreading to no avail, that Noah's battle will soon be coming to an end. Despite this unimaginable and devastating news, the family has chosen to spend their final days with Noah celebrating the birth of Our Savior a little early. the family's celebration begins next week, as we prepare for our Thanksgiving. Noah has expressed a desire for one simple gift... Christmas cards sent to him from around the world.
My family sent a card to Noah Biorkman a few days ago, and I'm asking you to do the same, to remind this family that the prayers for their son are many. Please, take a moment and send one. It is a small and inexpensive gift that would mean the world to one small child.
Noah Biorkman
1141 Fountain View Circle
South Lyon, MI 48178 USA
I, like so many, am in awe and inspired by the Biorkman family. Though I see little to celebrate, their courage and strength in facing a disease as terrible as Cancer is great, even when it is a losing battle. When I see the picture posted of Noah, I see my boys, just your average kids with all the world to live for, and I am reminded of how precious it all is. It could just as easily be someone posting messages about my family asking them to help us celebrate our last Christmas together. Noah's family is not alone; you need only take a look at the St. Jude Children's Research Hospital or the Make-A-Wish Foundation's websites to see just how many families are struggling to battle these childhood illnesses.
It just doesn't seem fair! Strike that... it isn't fair! Not that anyone deserves to battle through any disease, but it is absolutely heart wrenching to hear of children that must muster the strength to live with the daily pain that often comes with an chronic illness of this magnitude. Afterall, what can you say about the diseases we call Cancer? The truth is there is nothing to say that hasn't already been said a thousand times. There are 650 new cases reportedly annually in the U.S. of Neuroblastoma alone, 50 percent of which occur in children under the age of two. While some types of this and other Cancers are curable, a child diagnosed with it is still in for the fight of their lives, many times for their lives.
Noah's story reminds me of a little girl named Christina, whose story I heard years ago as a child. It was just before Christmas. I couldn't have been more than 8, and I was having trouble sleeping one night. I woke my brother (for the company) and we sat under our Christmas tree to watch TV. My brother, who was just a year younger than me, fell fast asleep, but I kept searching the channels for something, anything interesting to watch. I remember catching the middle of a program similar to Dateline about children fighting Cancer. They were following several children's story, but one in particular stuck with me. It was a little girl about my age named Christina. The details are a bit hazy, but her face remains plastered in my mind with the biggest smile you've ever seen on her face. Throughout the program, they shared how she loved to smile and make others smile, even on her sickest, weakest days. She battled her disease, of which type now escapes me, for years, all the while bringing laughter to the hospital in which she lived. She told jokes, drew colorful pictures, and brightened the days of the other children, as well as the docotrs and nurses. One day, she and the other children were on their way back home [to the hospital] from a party, and exhausted little Christina lay down to take a short nap in the back of the van. Christina never woke up. Tears rolled down my eight year old little cheeks and I couldn't stop sobbing. The world had suffered a great loss. I don't know that I fully understood her story at the time, but something touched me that night. I still think of Christina every Christmas, and I'm reminded to pray for the families of the children whose great smiles and love touch the lives of people even though their lives are short.
Noah is that kind of child, and I know that as young as he is, he has touched many people with his little life. My hope is that his parents carry that with them for the rest of theirs.
