Kind HEARTS at Christmas

We meet three readers who go above and beyond to bring happiness to others when it's needed most

- 

Dawn Allen (47) and her husband, Mark (46), spend the festive season bringing joy to sick children.

Our son Henry loved Christmas. Before he became ill, he was a mischievous two-year-old with blue eyes and floppy blonde hair, who gave the best hugs. In 2011, Henry started experiencing pain in his legs, and I noticed a lump in his tummy. At night, his temperature would soar to 40 degrees, then go back to normal during the day. I spent three months trying to get a doctor to take my concerns seriously, but was written off as an overanxious first-time parent.

The hardest decision

Unbeknown to us all, neuroblastoma, a cancer of the nerve tissue, was viciously growing inside him. In February 2012, Henry's cancer was diagnosed by a consultant who knew the symptoms, but by then he was already dying.

Chemotherapy started, but it was too late to save his life. One day I was talking to a nurse by Henry's bedside while I thought he was sleeping, asking how we'd know when to stop treatment. Henry opened his eyes and said, 'No more medicine, Mummy. Can I go home?' It was a tough decision for us as parents, but we came home and focused on making all his last wishes come true, which meant bringing Christmas forward to October. We filled our garden with snow and Shetland ponies dressed up as donkeys, Santa visited and Henry was inundated with presents.

Henry must have known his fate. He said he would never play with all the toys he'd been given and that we must give them away, asking us to 'pinky promise' we'd help other children. Henry died, aged four, on 20 October 2013. He was our only child.