Alex and Emma were diagnosed with Pantothenate Kinase Associated Neurodegeneration in 2009.

Shortly after, our girls were referred to the Make-A-Wish foundation. In a matter of weeks, we had been vetted through the proper medical records and doctor recommendations. Then we were then visited by volunteers who sat with our girls and helped them brainstorm what they would wish for.

When asked what she wanted more than anything, Emma said, “A bouncy ball!” We all laughed, brought her a bouncy ball from her room, and then the volunteers helped her dream big. They encouraged her to dream up the most amazing thing she possibly could. Her conclusion was neither original nor unexpected, but it was amazing, indeed. She wished to see Mickey Mouse. To this day we wonder where Alex came up with her wish and Drew and I both vehemently deny any leading because it would have never occurred to either of us to wish for a dolphin swim.

The wishes were submitted and then there was the party.

The Wish Granting Party

Honestly, the attention of a party made me uncomfortable, but in retrospect I can see the beauty and significance of such a celebration. Our family was used to living a life that was a bit different. We knew our life was more involved than that of a typical family with a four-year-old and a seven-year-old. Our days revolved around their doctor visits, medications, and therapies, but it was all we knew. Our girls were cared for, loved, and, perhaps most notably, they were happy. Still, our life was far from normal. We were accustomed to people noticing us for all the reasons that made us different.

That party of balloons, cakes, presents, photographers, friends, family, and strangers celebrated our girls. They were the guests of honor and Drew and I stood with them as the volunteers made the official announcement that their wishes had been granted.

By the end of the day, we were all tired, overstimulated, sugared up, and over the moon excited for what was ahead. For the first time in a long time, we all went to sleep that night in anxious anticipation of the good things ahead and not just the worries of a medically fragile future of a terminal diagnosis.

It was more than magic. It was Make-A-Wish magic.

The next week our family was greeted at our local airport by the Make-A-Wish volunteers. They hugged us, handed us everything we would need for our magical vacation, and waved as we went through security.

From our greeter at the airport to the welcome team at Give Kids The World Village to the comfortable cottage that was our home for a week, it was magic.

From princess makeovers and Minnie Mouse hugs to fireworks over Cinderella’s castle, it was magic.

From passes that allowed us to skip lines to quiet rooms where the girls could receive their medications and take a break, it was magic.

From tours around Sea World to the tiny little wet suit that clothed Alex as her dream of swimming with dolphins came true, it was magic.

From fancy dinners out to daily boxes of snacks left on our doorstep, it was magic.

From volunteers to the Disney cast members to the friends and family who altered their own vacation plans to cross paths with us, it was magic.

For 10 whole days our girls got to be special in a million wonderful ways. They were treasured, catered to, and accommodated. My mama heart was stretched and, in the name of letting it be magic, I learned to take a deep breath and let others serve us.

It was extravagantly magical, and I’ll never forget it.

Our girls are gone now, but we still support the foundation.

Drew and I have made it a point to contribute to the Make-A-Wish foundation periodically in the years since our girls died. Someday we hope to write a check or make a grand gesture that will cover a week of magic for a special child and their family. Until then, we sometimes pop over and make a small donation.

Does $5 or $10 send a kid to Disney or build them a dream tree house? Nope.

Does $5 or $10 fly their family to a tropical destination or makeover their very own room? Nope.

But $5 or $10 might leave a snack on their doorstep or buy them a souvenir. It might cover the balloons at their wish granting party. It might help in one tiny way and it’s our honor to play even the smallest roll in the magic.

We invite you to consider a donation to one of the amazing charities that brought magic to our lives. If you can’t give, then maybe you could stop and say a prayer for a family that you know or even a family that you don’t. Just say a little prayer that a special kiddo and their family might feel as treasured, special, and magical as our family once did.

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