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A four and a half year old boy.

My cousin.

So small, so frail, so pure.

How can something so unbecoming of a child come to him?

How can his innocence be tainted by such a death?



Doctors say treatment might be too strong for his system.

But they’re going to try.

Kemo and medications.

Blood tests and needles of so many.

Tears that fall down his little cheeks.

“Mommy, why are they poking me? It hurts,” he cried.



So many tests of faith come with things like this.

“Everything happens for a reason,” some say.

“Leave it in God’s hands,” say others.

But isn’t God who let it happen?

Times are so hard, so unbearable.



It’s not fair.

Diagnosed only a day after my birthday.

So young, so tragic.

How can something like this happen?

If I could, I would trade him places without hesitation.



I'm young also, but my life isn't as valuable as his.

I've had my chances to live my life.

He hasn't.

Oh please, let him be okay.

Let him live!



I'm not just asking.

I'm demanding it!

Please, let him live!

My tears, my blood, my heart and soul... my life.

I'll give it all just to see him smile and be healthy.