In my dual profession as an educator and health care provider, I have worked with numerous children infected with HIV. The relationships with these special kids have been gifts in my life. They have taught me that great courage can be found in the smallest of packages. Let me tell you about Tyler.
Tyler was born with HIV; his mother was also infected. From the beginning, he depended on medications to survive. At age five, a tube was surgically inserted into a vein in his chest, connected to a pump he carried in a backpack. Medications were continuously supplied through this tube to his bloodstream. At times, he also needed supplemental oxygen.
Tyler refused to let his disease steal his childhood. He was often seen playing and racing around his backyard, wearing his medicine-laden backpack and pulling his oxygen tank in a little wagon. We all marveled at his pure joy and energy. His mom often teased him, saying he moved so fast she needed to dress him in red so she could spot him quickly through the window.
Eventually, the disease wore down even a little dynamo like Tyler. He grew quite ill, as did his mother. When it became clear he would not survive, his mother talked to him about death, comforting him by saying she was dying too and would be with him soon in heaven.
A few days before his death, Tyler beckoned me to his hospital bed and whispered, "I might die soon. I'm not scared. When I die, please dress me in red. Mom promised she's coming to heaven, too. I'll be playing when she gets there, and I want to make sure she can find me."