Chapter 7 - Drawing Pictures of the Sun
Back home, David woke to the sound of snow brushing against the windowpane. Downstairs, he found Lily sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor surrounded by sheets of construction paper and broken crayons. She had discarded the cool blues and dark grays, choosing only bright yellows, fiery oranges, and vivid reds.
She was drawing suns—dozens of them. Some were perfectly round with wild, spiky rays; others were lopsided swirls that covered the entire page. When David asked why she was drawing so much light, Lily explained that the hospital was far away and probably very dark in the snow. She believed her mother needed the drawings to keep her hands warm while she held onto the borrowed heart.
David carefully gathered the papers, placed them in a large manila envelope, and mailed them before noon. Three days later, those vibrant crayon suns covered the clinical walls of Room 412. The nurses, the cleaning staff, and even the stern head of oncology stopped in the doorway just to admire the room. Lily’s warmth had traveled across state lines, transforming a sterile chamber into a glowing sanctuary of human resolve.
