02.December 2025

Natalie, the Girl Who Finally Smiled…

 

One day during my work as a healthcare clown, I was with my colleague Simsim Abu-Ka‘keh, bringing light to the children in the hospital. There, I met a girl named Natalie. Natalie was about 12 years old. She was different  she didn’t speak easily. Her tongue was a bit heavy, and words and letters came out with difficulty.
 But even so, her eyes were saying so much. They were full of innocence and curiosity.

We sang her a song with her name in it. Honestly, Dr Simim did an amazing job with the song. We played together, and we left a small moment of happiness with her, like a tiny flower blooming inside her tired heart.

A few days later, I got news that shook something inside me: Natalie was asking about me. She told her family, “I want Tuffaḥa.” At first, they thought she was hungry and wanted to eat an apple. But the doctor explained to them that Tuffaḥa is the healthcare clown  Tuffaḥa al-Lammaḥa.

When I heard that, I was happy, but I also felt a strange feeling mixed with sadness because she was asking about me when I wasn’t there. She had been waiting for me, and at that moment, I didn’t show up. Natalie got upset, and that wasn’t a nice feeling for her tired heart.

But on Wednesday, she was standing at the door of the room waiting for us. Her smile was bigger than the door. When I saw her mother, she told me something that affected me deeply. She said that since the beginning of Natalie’s illness, she hadn’t smiled even once, and that she only smiled for the first time after meeting us.

We sang with her again, laughed, played focus games with her, and she enjoyed being with us so much. She didn’t want to let us leave and stayed with us until the last moment.

Her mother came close to me and said words I will never forget:
 “I’m sure her healing will be through you. She doesn’t want to leave you.”

These moments changed me. Natalie wasn’t just a sick child, she was searching for a light, for someone who could understand her without the need to speak. And that light, even if only for a moment, was us the healthcare clowns.

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