Rays of sunshine on little buds of despair

A chance to cut the cake and sing ‘happy birthday’ is what the Rotary Club of Colombo and school Interact Clubs give the children of the Maharagama Cancer Hospital

His thinning hair, stick thin limbs and wizened face tug at your heartstrings, but it is those eyes that stop you in your tracks. Tired eyes, begging an end to his suffering. Barely past his first words and toddling steps, Charith is just four years old.

Across the hall, rosy and plump is five-month-old Yohan. He's not big enough to hold his head steady, but is already terrified of strangers, screaming in terror and nestling into his mother's neck as I reach out to touch him. "He thinks you'll hurt him. All he sees here are nurses and doctors and they're always pricking him with needles," his mother Kanthi says.

For Charith and Yohan, like the other children at the Maharagama Cancer Hospital, there is little to smile about. Life is an endless blur of needles, hospitals and tiring bus journeys, accompanied always by pain.

But once a month, the darkness of their days is lit-up by the light of thoughtful caring. For a few hours they can laugh and sing, and if dancing is too much for their weak bodies, at least clapping their hands in time to music, escaping to a world where there is no pain, only the joy of being a child.

On the initiative of the Rotary Club of Colombo, on the last Sunday of each month, the children are hosted to a birthday party at the Children's Hall of the Cancer Hospital. Having enlisted the support of six Interact Clubs in Colombo, the RCC and the Interact Clubs take it in turn to put a smile on the youngsters' faces.

Last week, the Interactors of Royal College were busily blowing balloons, serving party food and counting the gifts for the children. The bright and airy hall was packed with children from five months to 14 years and their parents, and was abuzz with excitement. The children are given balloons, party food and gifts, and those whose birthdays fall on that particular month, get to cut a birthday cake, while the others sing Happy Birthday. The scene is a poignant one, as the chances are that for some of the happy faces there, this may be their last birthday, while others may not live long enough for their chance to blow out the candles.

There were squeals of excitement as the balloons were handed out. Many of the children didn't want to clap their hands during the sing-along which followed, scared that their balloons would fly away, but not so little Ravindu Kavishka. The balloon was pushed onto his mother's lap as soon as the singing began. His mother Nirosha, torn between protecting her sick child and wanting him to enjoy himself as much as possible, kept half-heartedly wrapping his hand in a handkerchief, to prevent infection entering through the canula used to insert the chemotherapy drugs.

As the party progresses, the cake and the rest of the party food; two marshmallows, two Marie biscuits and a few coloured jujubes, are given to each child. "There is very little the children can eat because their stomachs are so sensitive after the chemotherapy. Even to bake the cake we have to give a letter each month to say that it is home-made under hygienic conditions," says Mr. A. Cader, a RCC member whose wife provides the birthday cake each month.

But for eight-year-old Vinodhini, who makes the gruelling journey from Batticaloa to Maharagama at least once a month, even this little food is too much. Wearing a pretty red dress, with not a hair on her head after the chemotherapy and looking all the more beautiful for it, she sits patiently holding onto the plate of goodies she knows she cannot eat, and waits for her mother, who has taken the only free time she has, to have a bath.

Little Nethra, on the other hand, whose birthday was on March 31, cheerfully munches on her biscuit. Chubby and beautiful, she's a spirited and energetic four-year-old, and as an only child, the apple of her parents' eyes. "When we were told of her cancer, my husband who is a police inspector, couldn't bear it. He took out his gun to shoot himself. The doctors and nurses had to stop him," said her mother Sujatha.

Across the entire room are similar heartbreaking stories. Fathers who are security guards, vendors, electricians and fishermen in faraway villages, tell of how they have lost their jobs and taken pay cuts they cannot afford, to bring their children to hospital. Mothers talk about the children they have left at home, and of how sometimes, in the depths of their despair, they don't want to live anymore.

As always, money is the major stumbling block to the recovery of many of these children. "One little boy used to come here every day, but he wasn't getting any treatment. When I asked him why, he said "I'm waiting for a donor," not even kowing what this meant, says Theja Sandya, the teacher who runs the preschool at the Children's Hall. "Sometimes the children are prescribed drugs which the parents can't afford, so they have to wait until someone donates them the money. They come to the hospital every day and wait in hope for a donor, but so many of my students have died because the money hasn't come on time," she said.

The parents are immensely grateful for the effort the Rotary Club of Colombo is taking to spread a little joy. "The children enjoy this so much, and even for us parents, it means so much to know that there is something for them other than pain, here," said Charith's father, while Prasadhi, whose 10-month-old daughter has cancer of the stomach says, "I'm so worried about my daughter all I can think of is making her well again. I am so happy that someone else is kind enough to think of making her happy, even for just a day."

Which is why, says Mike Masilamani, President of the RCC, they hope to not only continue the birthday party project at the Cancer Hospital but eventually take it to other hospitals throughout the island where there are sick children. To this end, the Rotary Club of Jaffna has already started its birthday party project, at the Valzagam Children's Home for the Differently Abled in Chunnakam. "In Jaffna, the kids don't get birthday cake, because there's no margarine, so they make do with toffees," he said.
For the Interact Club members, too, the project is an eye-opener. Says President of the Royal College Interact Club Riyaz Riffai, "It's so easy to make these children happy. Even though they are so sick, they are still cheerful. There's a lesson for us in that."
And the lesson is one that we can all learn.