We named her Nor Elisya, which means our shining light. From the moment she entered our lives, she brought warmth, joy, and meaning into everything we did. Her laughter filled our home. Her curiosity reminded us of how beautiful the world could be when seen through a child’s eyes. At just two years old, she was discovering colors, words, and tiny adventures that made up her universe. We never imagined that, so soon, her life would be defined not by playgrounds and picture books, but by hospital rooms and medical charts.
When the doctors told us that Elisya had Acute Leukemia, time seemed to freeze. Nothing prepares a parent to hear those words. Nothing prepares you to understand that your child’s life is suddenly in danger. In that moment, the future we had dreamed of collapsed into fear, disbelief, and heartbreak. We were forced to learn a new language overnight—chemotherapy protocols, blood counts, infection risks—terms no parent ever wants to know.
From that day forward, Elisya began her battle.
She went through aggressive rounds of chemotherapy, treatments so intense that even adults struggle to endure them. Yet her tiny body was asked to withstand it again and again. We watched her strength fade, her appetite disappear, her energy drain away. We saw her hair fall out, one gentle strand at a time. We held her as she cried in confusion, asking questions she was far too young to have to ask. Each session felt like a war fought inside her fragile body.
Still, she endured.
We learned to celebrate the smallest victories: a stable blood count, a day without fever, a smile that returned even briefly. When the doctors told us she had entered the post-treatment maintenance stage, hope flooded back into our hearts. We thought—perhaps too soon—that we could finally breathe. That the worst had passed. That our daughter had survived the storm.
But life had another cruel chapter waiting.
One of the chemotherapy drugs, asparaginase, caused Elisya to develop severe pancreatitis, a rare but devastating complication. The pain was unbearable. Watching our daughter scream in agony, unable to understand why her body was betraying her, shattered us. The doctors had no choice but to act quickly. Elisya was rushed into major abdominal surgery, a terrifying prospect for a child so small.
After surgery, she spent 35 long days in an isolated ward. Her body was covered in tubes and wires—machines breathing for her, feeding her, monitoring every fragile function. The sterile hospital room became our entire world. We stayed by her side day and night, holding her hand through every beep of the machines, every painful procedure, every tear that fell down her cheeks. She asked us why it hurt so much. And as parents, there is no answer more devastating than not knowing how to take your child’s pain away.
Those days tested us in ways we never thought possible. We lived moment to moment, clinging to hope, bracing ourselves for setbacks, learning to be strong even when we felt completely broken.
And yet—through all of this—Nor Elisya continued to fight.
Even after surgery, even after losing so much strength, she still found ways to smile. She would whisper “Papa” through her tears, reaching for comfort. She talked about the things she missed and the things she still dreamed of. She said she wanted to go to the beach again. She told us she wanted to walk, to run, to play like other children.
And she didn’t just dream—she tried.
After she was finally discharged from the hospital, we wanted to give her something she had been robbed of for so long: a moment of childhood. We took her on her dream trip to Coney Island. She couldn’t stand for long, so we brought a small chair with us everywhere. We moved slowly, stopping often to let her rest. We went to Punggol Splash, where she played with water and laughed freely. For a brief, precious moment, we saw our daughter not as a patient—but simply as a little girl again.
Those moments reminded us why every struggle was worth it.
But the journey was far from over.
On October 10, Elisya developed a fever and had to be readmitted to the hospital. Her body is still healing. The hematoma from her surgery has not fully recovered, and complications remain a constant risk. Just days before returning to the hospital, she looked at us and said something that will stay with us forever:
“Daddy, the places where the tubes were in my leg and back still hurt… but I can walk.”
That sentence broke our hearts and lifted our spirits at the same time. Pain and courage, fear and hope, all wrapped into the words of a two-year-old who refuses to give up. In that moment, we saw the true strength of our daughter.
Alongside the emotional toll of this journey, the financial burden has become overwhelming. So far, we have already paid S$270,000 out of pocket, with no insurance coverage to support us. Every savings we had has gone toward keeping Elisya alive. And yet, the costs continue to rise.
We now need to raise S$130,000 to continue her treatment and care. We are starting with S$65,000 to cover immediate hospital bills, and will work toward raising the remaining balance next. These funds are needed for specialised nutrition to help her regain strength, follow-up treatments and monitoring, rehabilitation, and essential home care. These are not optional expenses—they are critical to her recovery and long-term survival.
We have reached a point where we simply cannot carry this burden alone anymore.
Asking for help is not easy. But loving your child means doing everything possible to protect her future. We are asking, from the depths of our hearts, for your support.
If you are able, please stand with us. Share Elisya’s story. Make a donation if you can. Every dollar, every share, every kind thought makes a difference. Your generosity helps keep our daughter safe. It gives her another chance to heal, to walk, to play, and to live the life she deserves.
Nor Elisya is more than a diagnosis. She is a fighter. She is a dreamer. She is our shining light. And with your help, we believe her light can continue to shine brightly into the future.
All funds raised will be managed by Give.Asia and paid directly to the hospital, ensuring transparency and that every contribution goes toward Elisya’s medical care.
From our family to yours, thank you for reading our story. Thank you for seeing our daughter. And thank you for being part of her journey toward healing and hope.
