When we think back to that day, the fear still grips our hearts as if it were yesterday. It began so innocently — just a few urological issues, nothing serious, we thought. Maybe a cold. Maybe stress. A few days of rest, and everything would go back to normal. That’s what we told ourselves. But life had other plans.

During what was supposed to be a routine ultrasound, the doctor suddenly went silent. We remember his expression — the way the color drained from his face — and the heavy, endless pause that followed. Then came the words that shattered our world:“There’s a tumor on your daughter’s kidney.”

The next morning, we were already in Wrocław, at the Cape of Hope children’s hospital. That’s where our long, painful fight began — a fight filled with sleepless nights, fear, and moments when all we could do was pray for strength.

Zuzia was only a little girl, but she had to endure what no child ever should. Endless tests, hospital stays, anesthesia after anesthesia, MRI scans, biopsies, and the constant drip of IVs. Some days, she was too weak to open her eyes. Other days, nausea and fever left her crying softly in her hospital bed, clutching her stuffed bunny to her chest.

The tumor kept growing. Doctors decided surgery was the only chance. We watched as our daughter was wheeled into the operating room — so small, so fragile, but so brave — whispering, “I’ll be back soon, Mom.” We waited outside the door, hands trembling, praying for one thing only: that she would come back to us.

When it was over, the doctors told us they had removed her right kidney. Our little girl had lost a part of her body — but she hadn’t lost her courage.

Zuzia knows she has a “bad kidney,” and that she gets “infusions that make her hair fall out.” When her hair began falling out in clumps, she walked up to me and said calmly, “Mom, cut it all off. It’ll grow back when the infusions end.”

We cried — not because of her hair, but because of her strength. Because our daughter, at just a few years old, faced something most adults couldn’t bear — and still managed to smile.

She refused to wear a wig. “It’s itchy,” she said. “I’m fine like this.” And she was. Beautiful. Brave. Unshakably herself.

Today, Zuzia continues her chemotherapy. Every two weeks, we spend another long, grueling week in the hospital. Between cycles, we come home — but not for long. Her body is so weak that we often return forblood or platelet transfusions. Yet even in her exhaustion, Zuzia finds moments of joy. She paints, she decorates anything that glitters, and she dreams.

“Mom,” she said one evening, gazing out the hospital window, “when the IVs are gone, we’ll go to the seaside. I’ll build the biggest sandcastle ever.”

Those are the moments that keep us going — the quiet, fragile hopes of a child who still believes in sunshine after the storm.

But the fight is far from over.

Zuzia’s body is tired. Her immune system is fragile. She still faces more chemotherapy, more transfusions, more rehabilitation to regain her strength. We are doing everything we can — but the costs are overwhelming.

On top of Zuzia’s illness, our family is also caring for her brother, who lives with a disability. Each day is a balancing act between hospitals, therapy sessions, and survival — not just physical, but emotional. We are learning to live in the shadow of illness, to find beauty in the smallest victories, and to keep believing in goodness, even when it feels far away.

But now, we need help.

We need funds for continued treatment, rehabilitation, medication, transportation, and everything else that gives our daughter a chance at recovery. We are doing our best, but we can’t do this alone anymore.

There is nothing worse for a parent than standing beside your child’s hospital bed and realizing that love alone isn’t enough — that medicine, care, and hope all cost money you don’t have.

We just want to see her grow. To hear her laugh again without pain. To take her to the seaside and watch her build that sandcastle she keeps dreaming of.

Zuzia has already proven that she’s a fighter — stronger, braver, and more determined than anyone we know. But to keep fighting, she needs all of us.

🙏 Please, help us give her a chance at life.

Every donation, every share, every kind word brings us closer to giving Zuzia the future she deserves — one filled with sunshine, laughter, and the freedom to be just a child again.

She lost a kidney, but not her courage.
Now, with your help, she can win her battle for life. ❤️