More than 150 families across Georgia who have faced the tough reality of childhood cancer spent Sunday afternoon celebrating the holidays together. The event, hosted by CURE Childhood Cancer, offered a welcome break from medical routines and emotional stress.
Held at the Atlanta Marriott Northeast, the annual holiday gathering turned the hotel ballroom into a cozy winter scene with games, crafts, music, treats, and plenty of laughter. Children enjoyed arcade games, face painting, dancing, and creative activities, while parents reconnected and finally had time to breathe without thinking about test results or hospital visits.
Jenny Hobby, Director of Brand and Communications for CURE, called the annual event “a celebration of family.” She noted that families who deal with childhood cancer often feel stretched thin, emotionally and physically. The event gives them a space to relax and experience the magic of the holidays — something many haven’t been able to do for a long time.
Families Find Comfort and Joy in a Rare Moment of Calm
Many parents at the ballroom said they hardly get opportunities for normal family moments. Treatment schedules, constant check-ups, long commutes to hospitals, and waiting for lab results can turn holidays into just another stressful day.
One parent shared that the hardest part is the unpredictability of cancer care. Plans often change at the last minute, making it difficult for siblings to feel involved or for parents to stay on the same page. Even small gatherings become complicated.
The party helps families relax without worrying about appointments or emergencies.
It’s a reminder that childhood still deserves joy.
Families spent hours painting ornaments, building crafts, and letting kids explore every corner of the room with their friends. Even if just for one afternoon, everything felt normal.
Volunteers Play a Major Role
Volunteers ran stations throughout the entire event, helping children with decorating, supervising games, and cheering them on during DJ dance breaks.
One tiny moment stood out: a small girl squealed with joy while frosting a gingerbread cookie, and a nearby volunteer kept adding sprinkles just to see her giggle.
Parents often say that sterile clinic rooms and quiet hospital hallways take away the usual sounds of childhood. So, a ballroom full of shrieks, music, and messy frosting feels like a small miracle.
CURE staff said volunteers are essential. Many of them are former caregivers, hospital workers, or college student groups eager to donate their time.
Santa’s Arrival Brings Big Smiles
Perhaps the most anticipated moment of the afternoon was Santa’s entrance. Kids lined up for photos, whispered their holiday wishes, and collected souvenirs. Siblings who have spent long hours in waiting rooms or visiting oncology floors were excited to have a holiday moment that belonged only to them.
Parents say meeting Santa feels different in a space full of families who understand each other. Nobody has to explain scars, missing hair, medical masks, emotional stress, or the long months behind chemotherapy. Santa simply sits, listens, smiles, and lets kids be kids.
For many of these families, holidays are complicated. Some children must limit travel because their immune systems are weak. Others have spent previous Christmases in hospital rooms. Moments like this allow families to escape that reality, even if it’s temporary.
Research and Emotional Support Continue Year-Round
CURE Childhood Cancer’s broader mission includes funding scientific research and helping families through financial and emotional stress. The nonprofit supports children from the moment of diagnosis to the end of treatment and beyond.
The organization allocates significant funding into clinical trials, better therapies, and improving survival rates. They also help with emergency bills, counseling, and education programs for families.
Here are key areas CURE focuses on:
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Providing financial assistance to parents facing treatment-related expenses
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Supporting research to help develop safer and more effective care options
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Offering meals, counseling, and event programs for families during treatment
One hospital social worker noted that emotional strain can overwhelm families just as much as financial strain. Regular events organized by CURE help keep spirits up and create meaningful relationships among families who share the same fears and hopes.
A Look at Childhood Cancer in Georgia
Georgia hospitals care for hundreds of pediatric oncology patients each year. Leukemia continues to be the most diagnosed form of childhood cancer nationwide, followed by brain tumors. Improvements in treatment have increased survival rates, but significant challenges remain.
To give a simple view of national childhood cancer data:
| Type of Cancer | Approx. Childhood Incidence in U.S. |
|---|---|
| Leukemia | Nearly 28% of all pediatric cases |
| Brain & CNS Tumors | About 26% |
| Lymphomas | Around 8% |
| Neuroblastoma | Roughly 6% |
| Bone Cancers | Less than 5% |
Doctors say ongoing support for research is critical. Families constantly hope that new therapies will reduce long-term side effects and improve outcomes.
One parent attending the event said the hardest part isn’t just the diagnosis. It’s the long process ahead — the medications, transfusions, fevers, isolation, hospital nights, and all the uncertainty that stretches into months or years.
Even when treatment ends, families often live with worry. Follow-up scans, fear of relapse, and emotional stress continue for a long time.
Why Events Like This Matter
Everyone attending the ballroom understood the complicated emotional landscape of pediatric cancer. Holiday celebrations become symbolic — they signal that life keeps moving, even during treatment.
Hobby mentioned that many families struggle to coordinate normal traditions because they get pulled in different directions. Hospital stays and urgent medical needs make it impossible for everyone to be home at the same time.
She said the holiday party gives families the rare chance to enjoy each other and make meaningful memories.
A father who attended with his young son said the room felt like a break from reality. “We’re surrounded by people who get it,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to fake anything here.”
One small paragraph feels necessary here.
Some families at the ballroom have children currently undergoing chemotherapy. Others have kids in remission. A few have lost children and come to support others. All of them understand how deeply cancer shakes a household.
