LAUGHING IS FUN
This week I met Jaïr and Tali, parents of two children, one of whom, Gilat, is no longer alive. Gilat had a rare disease and spent a large part of her life (she died on the day she turned 11.5) in the Emma Children's Hospital in the AMC.
Gilat means joy and that she was the one who had to carry that name is fate. Because wherever she was, she brought a smile. And friendship. Even with children who might have looked different because of their illness.
Because a smile a medicine that is simply not sold in jars, Jaïr and Tali Foundation Gilat founded. The first step is that there is a theater performance every week. For sick children, but also for their healthy siblings. Or for their mothers and fathers.
On the open floor above us, a girl is laughing as she rolls by in a wheelchair. Very fast. Just as it should be.
Yesterday I got to peek at Kinderstad in the VUmc (there is a performance every week in the AMC, and once every two weeks in the VUmc). Kinderstad is a loft where two floors are connected by a painted slide, a plane part with a pantry where I really felt the urge to play stewardess (“Pasta or fish? Pasta or fish?”) and even a corner sponsored by Ajax where you can kick a goal and where there is a mailbox for every Ajax player. In Kinderstad there are two rules; doctors are not allowed inside in their doctor uniform (that’s why there are brightly colored coats ready) and there is no talk about the illness a child has. Unless that person starts talking about it themselves. Then you know.
Yesterday the little violinists from Stringwise came to perform. You might know them from the visit of King Willem-Alexander and Queen Máxima to Amstelveen. After they had played for them, they were very eager to perform for these children.
Someone whispers to me that this girl is just ‘new’ and very sick.
I saw a girl hop out of her wheelchair and climb next to her mother on a Fatboy that is lying on the stands. Head in her mother's lap. Safe. A very beautiful girl with an Olaf T-shirt comes in a little later and dances with her mother to the waltz that the cheerful violin girls are playing. Next to her is an immense infusion machine that led to Olaf with a little wire. On the open floor above us, a girl is laughing as she rolls by in a wheelchair. Very fast. Just as it should be.
I look to the left where I see the first girl wiping away tears. Her mother laughs, she saves hers for tonight. Someone whispers to me that this girl is just ‘new’ and very sick. She doesn't really want to participate in the program yet. Meanwhile, all the other children are playing the violin incredibly.
We do one more number (can you actually call it that in the violin world?), go ahead. But then everyone has to clap along.
That Gilat is no longer alive is a great loss, but she lives on and still brings a smile to all children. Week after week.
The ‘first girl’ is no longer lying down. She is sitting up. And clapping. And laughing.
That Gilat is no longer alive is a great loss, but she lives on and still brings a smile to all children. Week after week.
Now you might be wondering why I am writing this piece. Because it is all nice and pleasant (and delicious) the world of Chanel bags, Gucci loafers and the latest tie-dye nail polish from Christian Dior, but ultimately it’s about being healthy. And if that is not given to us, at least being cheerful. That’s why I have connected myself as an ambassador to Gilat. To give children that extra smile. Because a smile is always in fashion.
