The angels were nowhere to be found that evening—abandoning their posts in the forests and galaxies, trusting the stars to stay in place for a singular night of celebration. If you looked up and scanned the skies in the earliest hours of the morning anywhere else in the world, you’d see streaks of light as they zoomed back towards their sentry posts in a panic to control the chaos that the universe left behind in their absence. Entirely worth the extra effort, they’d say in silent, tight-lipped agreement, nodding their heads decisively and chasing the little demons back into hiding.
You see, this night was a very important night. Phoenix Children’s Hospital was hosting their annual Ignite Hope candlelight walk on the second Saturday in December. Each year, the angels count down to this specific evening. In fact, the eldest angels volunteer to watch the charge of the youngest angels, so that no able-spirited being is required to stay in their assigned domains. The desert grows crowded with the sight of which could only be rivaled by a specific awe-filled night in the Middle East. (The temperature is arguably similar to that long-ago evening, though the angels have reported the modern stars cannot compare. Astronomers have refrained from commenting on this phenomenon. Physicists and Bioenergetics report massive shifts in energy each year which remain largely unexplained by those who have not yet looked up at the sky.)
Lily [4-year-old female with PMH of cystic fibrosis, presented with acute pulmonary exacerbations and suspected pneumonia] and her mother have spent many holidays cuddling between their coziest blankets on the hospital bed in between pulmonary function tests. On that evening, adequately prepared by the hospital Child Life staff, they perched on the couch near the window to watch the miracle of candlelight make its way down the street. Lily’s wide eyes gradually began to droop as the candles and carols continued, and her mother scooped her up in something between an earthly and heavenly embrace as she kissed the child’s forehead, praying for a good night.
Marco [12-year-old male with PMH of spina bifida, presented with urinary tract infection] had hoped to go home this morning, but was kept for observation. His class was having a holiday party without him, which was incredibly inconsiderate if you asked his mother, but made perfect sense to Marco. When he asked his father about the angels gathered at his window, his father had called the Hospitalist, who considered the episode a bout of delirium and recommended another UA to check for persistent infection. His little sister joined him at the window and admired the view until the candles burned out, but the carols continued softly until the angels flew home.
Chance [18-year-old male with MDD, presented s/p acetaminophen overdose] hadn’t planned to see December. He had finally convinced his parents to go home and get some sleep when the festivities began. Unwilling to participate, he sat in awkward silence with his patient sitter and watched the angels take turns writing him encouraging notes in the clouds and reenacting the parade in the sky, so that he wouldn’t be forced to move to the window. His stepmother sobbed when she stepped onto the streets, as she was swiftly handed a cup of hot chocolate and covered in a blanket. The angels denied any responsibility for this, but this was the only blanket found or distributed at the parade, and no other attendee could explain its origin.
You see, angels are hyperaware of the human life cycle and largely (with some exceptions) approve of its disruption. On all other days of the year, they look on with wonder at the general lack of awareness that humans have about their own, eventual demise (blissful ignorance, as the best of angel philosophers have deemed it)… but for the children at Phoenix Children’s Hospital, they find an excuse to go above and beyond each December. If the humans can, why shouldn’t they?
** If you happen to be interested in the Ignite Hope Candle Walk around PCH on December 13th, 2025 (what better distraction from Step studying and clerkships?), more information is just a click away at https://phoenixchildrensfoundation.org/signature/ignite-hope/! Just don’t forget to glance at the sky once or twice while you march around that precious building with those priceless kids (:
Hannie Lynch
Born, watered, and grown in Phoenix, Arizona, Hannie has spent her entire life trying to be anywhere else, photographing weddings all over the US & abroad to avoid the heat. Returning to this city for medical school after undergrad in Tucson at UArizona (Bear Down, Go Cats) was a difficult and beautiful decision that has culminated in a deep fondness for the populations that this city serves: the unhoused, the underprivileged, the migrant, and the refugee. As such, she spends a lot of time working with Street Medicine and other free clinics on 7th Avenue, and will probably be pursuing a career as an ED doc so that she never has to sit still again.