Our Own Miracle

Ten years ago, our doctor told us that Moy Moy probably only had a few more months to live. She had been having up to 16 major seizures in a day and her decline in every sphere had been precipitous. Although at that point she was eating on her own and could still walk with assistance, she was virtually non-verbal and less and less responsive each passing day.

We didn't argue with our doctor. Ten years seemed like a generous amount of time for a child who had been born on the side of a road, 12 weeks premature, weighing in at one kilo. We felt we had been lucky to keep her for this long.

But Moy Moy had her own plans and she didn't consult with us or our doctor or anyone else about how she would organise things. She simply did it: defied the odds, carried on, and taught us all a thing or two in the process.

As year after year melted into the next, we realized what a gift each year, each week, each moment actually is. Living under a death sentence ("she only has a few months left" never left our mind) concentrates the mind wonderfully. How precious this breath is. How lucky we are to be alive.

And to have our Moy Moy - still with us, still here.

Today Moy Moy turned 20, and to celebrate, we invited the entire Foundation and a few scattered friends who (for reasons unknown) are not in the Foundation.


I spent the day making cakes (FOUR!) and organising chairs, flowers and water glasses. In-between, I found a few moments to give thanks for the joy this young woman has brought to so many lives, for the purpose she has helped us to discover, for the mission she has created and is now responsible for. . .