Once, we encountered a cool boy in the hallway of Kaohsiung Chang Gung Memorial Hospital. He was clutching several stickers in his hands, his eyes shining as he sized up us clowns—“Let’s have a competition,” he suddenly said.
And so, the boy began giving us challenges, including rock-paper-scissors, odd-or-even guessing, and charades. My partner and I gave it our all, just to win the championship in front of him. Laughter echoed through the hallway, and finally it was time for the awards ceremony. With a serious look on his face, the boy presented the championship and runner-up awards in order, and even gave us several stickers as prizes. Holding the stickers, we excitedly said goodbye and continued on our way.
Just then, we suddenly heard hurried footsteps. The boy’s mother caught up with us and repeatedly thanked us, saying that her son had obtained those stickers only after undergoing several surgeries. He treasured them dearly, but today he had given so many of them to us all at once. She said, “He must have had a wonderful time today.”
Hearing these words, I pictured the boy entering the operating room—the fear and struggle that we could never see. Looking down at the stickers in my hand, those seemingly weightless stickers suddenly became heavy, filled with the boy’s courage and heartfelt feelings.
Children in the hospital may have lost many things, but they still possess rich inner worlds. In just a few short minutes, they open their hearts and seize the pure joy of that moment playing with clowns, allowing us to deeply feel that indescribable warmth.