When Isabella was seven, what started as a simple flu turned into a nightmare no parent ever expects. Her parents watched helplessly as she failed to get better. Blood tests revealed frightening abnormalities and suddenly, their world was turned upside down. Within hours, Isabella and her mom Karlee were airlifted by air ambulance to BC Children’s Hospital, while her father Brent and older sister Gabriella began the long eight-hour drive from Nakusp, unsure of what they would find when they arrived.

After a series of tests, the news came: Isabella had Wilms Tumor, a rare kidney cancer. The road ahead would be long, uncertain, and exhausting. For 202 nights, their lives would be centered around hospitals, treatments, and fear.

But in the midst of it all, Ronald McDonald House BC & Yukon became their sanctuary. A place to rest, to breathe, and to feel safe. Shared kitchens became gathering places for laughter, comfort, and stories; volunteers became lifelines on the heaviest days; other families became companions who understood the fears, the tears, and the tiny victories.

“This is the place you need to be,” says Karlee. “We’re all healing together. We’re all figuring things out together. We talk like a family. Our friends and family back home can support us as best they can, but the only people who truly understand are the ones under this roof.”

For this family, the House was more than a building — it was hope, it was love, it was life. It gave them strength when they felt weak, comfort when the world felt cruel, and the gift of staying together through every uncertain moment.

When Quinn was just two and a half years old, her parents noticed bruises and swelling on her tiny face that didn’t seem right. Within days, their world turned upside down. After a flurry of tests, doctors discovered cancer in her blood — leukemia.

The next morning, the family was airlifted from their small hometown to the Children’s Hospital in Vancouver. In the rush of fear and disbelief, one thing became clear: they needed a place to stay together.

Ronald McDonald House BC & Yukon made that possible. Within a day, there was a room waiting for mom, dad, Quinn, and her six-month-old baby sister. Just a five-minute walk from the hospital, it became their refuge.

At first, the big city and the hospital were intimidating. But soon, the family found themselves surrounded by warmth from the staff, volunteers, and the 70 other families who knew exactly what they were going through. They found comfort in shared meals, quiet moments, and the joyful sounds of music and art therapy echoing through the halls.

“Places like Ronald McDonald House help your family not just survive but actually thrive. It gives you the space to not just be in survival mode. No matter what happens, this is the best place in the world for my family to be.” ~ Jamie Kirk

Through every hospital visit, every night of worry, and every morning of hope, the House gave them more than a place to sleep, it gave them strength, community, and place where healing begins.

When baby Nicholas was still growing inside his mother Marion’s womb, doctors discovered something wasn’t right. His heart, which was meant to take up one-third of his chest had grown too large, taking up half of his chest. This enlarged aorta led to an enlarged began to press on his windpipe, making it difficult for him to breathe on his own. On top of all that Nicholas also had a hole in his heart which caused his blood to circulate improperly.

When the family arrived at BC Women’s Hospital, they were told they needed to stay, or they could lose their baby. When Nicholas entered the world, he was blue and struggling to breathe. From that terrifying moment, their lives revolved around hospital monitors, NICU alarms, and an unrelenting hope that their baby would one day come home.

Through it all, Ronald McDonald House BC & Yukon became their home for five months, from the day Nicholas was born until he was finally strong enough to be discharged. It wasn’t just the proximity to the hospital that mattered, it was the comfort, the support, the friends and the small moments of connection that helped them endure.

“We love the facilities and the close proximity to the hospital — it made life so much easier for us,” says Dominic. “Even though we spent very little time there during the day, those late nights back at the House meant everything. Sometimes at 10 p.m., we’d come back, make a small meal, and there was always another family awake — another parent who couldn’t sleep. We’d talk, share stories, and somehow, we didn’t feel so alone.”