I am the mother of Matwej Saldatau — my brave, warm, and sensitive boy. He is only ten years old, yet for most of his life, he has been fighting a cruel, unforgiving disease:spinal muscular atrophy type 2 (SMA).

We heard those words for the first time on September 15, 2016, and our world stopped. I remember every detail of that day — the doctor’s quiet voice, the sterile smell of the office, the way my hands trembled as I tried to hold my little boy close. That was the day life divided into “before” and “after.”

Before, we dreamed about bikes, playgrounds, and running through the park. After, we learned to live with fear — the kind that never leaves you.

A Life Defined by Courage

SMA is a rare genetic disease that slowly robs children of their ability to move, to walk, to even breathe without help. It weakens the muscles while the mind and heart remain perfectly strong. My son understands everything. He feels everything. He just can’t do what other children can.

Matwej can’t walk, run, or get out of bed on his own. His arms are weak, his legs even weaker. Lifting even the smallest toy takes effort. Yet despite it all, his spirit shines brighter than any shadow the illness has cast.

He loves Minecraft and Roblox, dreams of going to school every day, meeting friends, and living the life every child deserves — a life of laughter, freedom, and belonging.

Sometimes, when I look at him, sitting quietly by the window, I see both his strength and his pain. He never complains. Instead, he smiles and asks about the world — the one he longs to explore but cannot reach on his own.

A Move for Hope

We left our home in Brest to come to Poland, where Matwej could receive advanced treatment unavailable in Belarus. Here, he’s undergoing a complex and costly therapy that helps his body produce the missing protein his muscles need to survive. It’s not a cure — but it slows the disease and gives us time.

Every injection, every rehabilitation session, every hospital visit is another step in his battle for independence. The treatments are expensive, but they are keeping him alive — and for that, I would give up everything.

And I almost have.

Every spare coin goes toward his care. Every day is a calculation — between bills, medicine, and therapy. I’ve sold what I could, worked when I can, but some things are simply beyond my reach.

A Wheelchair That Means Freedom

Right now, Matwej’s greatest need is a new electric wheelchair. The one he has used for years has become too small and too worn to function properly. It breaks down constantly, its battery fails, and its frame no longer fits his growing body.

Without it, my son’s world becomes painfully small — confined to the limits of his bed and our apartment walls.

With it, he has legs again. A way to move through the world, to go to school, to visit friends, to feel the wind on his face. A wheelchair for Matwej isn’t just equipment — it’s independence, joy, and life itself.

But the cost of such a chair is staggering — far beyond what I can afford. I am already stretched thin from medical bills and rehabilitation expenses. I cannot do this alone.

A Mother’s Hope

As a mother, nothing hurts more than watching your child want something you can’t give — especially when that “something” is the simple ability to move, to live like others.

So I am asking, from the bottom of my heart: please help us.

Every contribution — every złoty, every prayer, every share — brings us closer to giving my son the freedom he deserves. You’re not just buying a wheelchair. You’re giving a child a chance to experience the world, to laugh with friends, to go to school, to live with dignity.

Sometimes, at night, when he’s asleep, I sit beside his bed and imagine him in his new wheelchair — racing down a sunny path, his laughter echoing through the air. It’s a small dream, but it’s everything.

You Can Give Him Wings

Matwej doesn’t need pity. What he needs — what he deserves — is a chance. A chance to see the world from beyond his window. A chance to be part of life, not just a spectator of it.

To everyone reading this — please, help us make that possible.

💙 Every gift brings my son closer to freedom. Every gesture brings him closer to joy.

For most of us, movement is something we take for granted. But for a boy like Matwej, it is everything — his hope, his independence, his life.

Let’s give him back the world — one wheel, one smile, one act of kindness at a time.