A different Christmas

In 2020, each of us had a different Christmas. The pandemic that had been affecting the world for several months was at the heart of our concerns.

One year on, the situation is as complicated as ever, in the midst of the 5th wave of the Covid-19 pandemic. Many families will not be able to celebrate Christmas together. They will be separated, and for many this is a very difficult ordeal.

I like to remind myself that, if you look around, there are always situations more difficult than the ones we're living in. I sincerely believe that. And I have every right to say it, as a mother who lost her child on the eve of his 5th birthday. A child who had her whole life ahead of her.

We've had our share of different Christmas celebrations, as have many other parents struggling to cope with their child's cancer.

At Christmas, we often focus on the meal, the wine, the gifts and the decorations. But we often forget what's really important: whether we believe in it or not, whether we're churchgoers or not, Christmas is a time for sharing with our loved ones, and it doesn't really matter what's on the menu or what the gift is.

The pandemic reminds us of this notion of sharing.

Difficult as it may be, let's remember that the sole purpose of this separation is to protect each other. Because yes, we are lucky enough to be able to protect each other. It's something I no longer have the opportunity to do for my daughter. So let's do it, let's protect each other, because we'll find each other again when times are better.

In the world of childhood cancer, we learn to live from day to day and to improvise. I still remember that Christmas in the middle of October, made for Maylis and her family, so that they could still celebrate as a family before she passed away.

The pandemic is disrupting our habits and traditions, but it's also teaching us a lot. Solidarity is usually very much in evidence around the holidays, as we remember all those people who are not as fortunate as we are.

I'm thinking of...

I think of those families who have just discovered the world of cancer with their child, just a few days before Christmas. They are in a state of doubt, fear and uncertainty.
I think of those who already know this world so well, and who are still in the battle. Another year of wondering, right up to the last moment, whether Christmas will be at home or in hospital. With the pandemic, bringing people to the hospital is out of the question, of course. Only one parent is allowed with the sick child, making the situation even more difficult.
I think of those families for whom Christmas will be their last with their child.
I think of the last Christmas with our daughter Zoé and of those Christmases without her. We had more Christmases without her than with her.
I think of her absence, always so strong, and of our daughter Lana who is growing up without her little sister.
I feel this pain in my clenching heart. It's a pain I wish no parent ever felt. Let's face it, when you've lost your child, Christmas is never the same.

But perhaps we are the people best placed to understand the importance of the present moment, of sharing and solidarity.

The greatest gift of all is life.

Who cares about gifts, let alone their value? The greatest gift of all is life. The life for which 350 children under 18 affected by cancer in Switzerland fight every year.

This hope of curing all children and enabling them to grow up is at the heart of Zoé4life. This motivates us every day in our work, and we're counting on you to help us in our mission. Thank you for your donation this holiday season, for all these children and their families.

Over the past 8 years, we have donated more than 2,000,000 francs to research, because it's the most beautiful thing we can do to help children with cancer: offer them the hope of a cure.

We'll all have different festive seasons, but when we and our loved ones are in good health, we can all appreciate how lucky we are.

Take care of yourself and your loved ones.

Natalie Guignard-Nardin - December 2021