[Congressional Record Volume 142, Number 137 (Saturday, September 28, 1996)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page E1785]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




[[Page E1785]]



                          CHILDREN'S INN GALA

                                 ______
                                 

                           HON. NEWT GINGRICH

                               of georgia

                    in the house of representatives

                       Friday, September 27, 1996

  Mr. GINGRICH. Mr. Speaker, the following remarks were made to at the 
Children's Inn Gala on September 26, 1996. I thought my colleagues 
would find this touching and inspiring.
  Introduction by Mrs. Debbie Dingell: It is my pleasure to introduce 
Kathy Schwanfelder. Kathy has been a member of the Children's Inn Board 
of Directors since 1994. She brings something very special to the 
board, a parent's perspective of how the Inn can best help its guests. 
Kathy has experienced the Inn first hand. She and her family stayed at 
the Inn with her daughter Lizzie while Lizzie was being treated at NIH. 
Kathy can tell you better than I can what the Inn means to her. I just 
thank Kathy for her tremendous support on the board and her for being 
here this evening.
  Remarks by Mrs. Kathy Schwanfelder: I've wanted to thank the 
supporters and friends of the children's Inn NIH since 1:00 in the 
morning of a cold February night 3 years ago. It was the moment my 
daughter Liz and I walked through the doors--to a cup of tea and a warm 
bed.
  At the same time that I share my gratitude with you I share my grief 
and the grief of the other families who have passed through the doors 
of the Inn. A horror surrounds us--a horror that our children are 
facing life threatening illnesses, that their days and nights are 
filled with painful medical procedures at a time when they should be 
filled with birthday parties and that is how I know the Inn--as a home 
away from home--a place that celebrates life, a place that helped my 
daughter Lizzie celebrate her short life.
  When children are ill, they are isolated--but not at the Inn. Here 
they are surrounded by others in the same boat. There need be no 
explanations for bald heads and feeble bodies.
  At the Inn my 17 year old could ``hang out'' with others her age. She 
was buoyed up by fighters and survivors. She could ask questions about 
what she was to face next--of people who knew because they had been 
there.
  Meanwhile, I could sit and have a cup of coffee with other parents 
who were also finding it hard to swallow--who knew my nightmares. No 
explanations were necessary. At the same time we could smile together 
at the Children's Inn as we watched our children take a step out of the 
misery that illness had inflicted on them and play in the playroom, 
watch a movie together in the family room, play a game in the library 
or just lounge on the couches and share stories about their friends 
back home in that other world where some of them would never really 
return.
  I want to thank you for having the vision and the continuing desire 
to support the Inn. I want you to picture a feeble-faced bald kid 
saying from her hospital bed up in Building 10: I feel strong enough to 
go home to the Inn tonight, could we sleep there so I can take a bath 
in my own bathroom--very important to 17-year-olds--and talk to 
Victoria and Chris, anyway I promised Marilyn a story next time I see 
her. And maybe more you could cook me up some nachos. I want you to 
picture an otherwise sophisticated, reserved young lady painting her 
whole bald head and face orange so she could be a jack-o-lantern at the 
Inn Halloween party. Picture her folding herself into a cubby in the 
little kids playhouse because they wanted her to be the mother. Know 
that when a child is painting her face and playing with others she is 
taking a break from disease and pain--sunlight shines if only for a 
moment.
  Picture being away from home for your 18th birthday when all your 
friends are back home shopping for senior prom dresses and instead of 
moaning and groaning because you've already learned that life can only 
be lived in the moment because that's all you have, you smile and plan 
your birthday in the Inn. Your guests include mostly 6-to-10-year-old 
boys because they happened to be there.
  Picture Liz saying to me: I think I've learned everything I know 
about living in this place. How can we pay them back mom?
  Well my precious child--this is the best I can do for you--and for 
all the children.

                          ____________________