Kay Ponicall and Kris Appleby on the Threshold of a Dream

By Stephen Small
The idea started bubbling away at the back of Kay Ponicall's mind soon after the arrival of her own children, Jack and Emma. Kay's artist brother, Bill Bradley, had done such a fabulous job decorating their room that she began to dream about creating fairy tale bedrooms for kids that needed them more than her own. By spinning a little magic around seriously ill children, she hoped to minimize the stress of hospitalization and give them the space they needed to rest and recover.

The dream took a step toward reality in the most unlikely surroundings. A group of 17 girlfriends were on a junket to a spa in Scottsdale, Arizona. Kay found herself sitting next to Kris Appleby at dinner. She poured her ideas into Kris' receptive ears. Kris had been looking for a worthwhile project to fund from the General Sports Foundation - a charity recently set up by her husband's company. They'd kicked around a few sports-related themes, "but nothing really pulled at my heartstrings," said Kris. Then Kay came along. The connection was made, and the sparks flew. "Oh my God. I loved the idea," recalls Kris, and Kris is nothing if not a go-getter. So a few days later, she called Kay. They met and decided to "just do it."

The friends from the spa became the core group of volunteers. Thirty invitations to an inaugural meeting yielded 40 volunteers and the Suite Dreams Project has never looked back. They started their first room in March 2001, planning for one a month: by April they'd already done four. In just over a year, Kay, Kris and their merry band of helpers had transformed the bedrooms, and the lives, of 35 kids and their families. As they bravely struggle against appalling illnesses, these children now have a place of magic and warmth where their dreams are brought to life.

From the beginning, the Suite Dreams Project worked very closely with two local hospitals, the University of Michigan Health System's C.S. Mott Children's Hospital in Ann Arbor and the Children's Hospital of Michigan in Detroit. They helped by finding children who could most benefit from the Suite Dreams Project's special service. The children they choose are often confined to their bedrooms for much of their time. All have serious or long-term illnesses, and a few face struggles with terminal disease, but most have a good chance of recovery. The Suite Dreams Project teams commonly help children with cancer, cystic fibrosis, and cardiac and pulmonary diseases. The conditions and courage of the kids instantly inspires resolve in the volunteers. "You meet them, and you just want to do all you can for them," says artist Bill Bradley.

Some of the Suite Dreams Project children, for example, have had bone marrow transplants, which wipes out their immune system. So even after a month in hospital, they're taking 15 to 18 medications a day. They can't mix with other children, and they barely leave their homes for a whole year to avoid contact with viruses and bacteria. "It's a tremendous burden on the children and their families," says Dr. James Ferrara, the Director of the Combined Bone Marrow Transplantation Program at the University of Michigan's comprehensive Cancer Center. These children are "very conflicted." They feel happy to be alive, but they're often surprised at how hard the isolation and recovery period can be. This is where the Suite Dreams Project comes into its own.

According to Dr. Ferrara, the children and families helped by the Suite Dreams Project generally cope much better than other families. He's been touched by "the joy that comes from these families" and describes the Suite Dreams Project's treatment as "appropriate, joyful and healing." By creating these special rooms, the Suite Dreams Project is not only giving the children a pleasant distraction, they're really helping with their recovery by making the children feel comfortable and happy at home.

It seems there's only one problem with the Suite Dreams Project's treatment: it can't be given to every sick child. "It's extremely special, but not everybody gets it," says Dr. James Ferrara, who has very difficult decisions to make when recommending recipients. "We pick children with the longest, most complicated, isolated treatment courses," he explains. But they also look at the whole family's circumstances. "Clearly some families are in more need of this than others."

When a suitable child is found, a team of volunteers is assembled. It's usually three or four people, but it can be more. The teams talk to the parents and the child to find out what would make them most happy. They then try to surpass their expectations. A lot of thought and preparation goes into each room. "We do a lot of homework so the room can grow with the child," says Bill. Planning and shopping then takes at least two weeks. This is one of the most enjoyable parts for the volunteers (it's not every day that you get to shop for a dozen stuffed Dalmatians). But it's not just fun and games. There's a lot of legwork in scouring the shops for that perfect piece of furniture and the ideal accessories.

Most of the materials and furniture are bought, although some are donated and much is acquired at a reduced price. The Suite Dreams Project wants the bedrooms to last as well as look good, so they use high quality furniture from stores that offer them a discount. When all the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle are assembled, the hard work really begins. Stripping, sanding, painting, wallpapering - even laying new floors: you name it, they do it. And three to four days later a transformation has taken place.

The new rooms come in all shapes and sizes. But fantasy and fun are the hallmark of a Suite Dreams Project makeover. Bedrooms have been brought to life with purple hearts and vibrant flowers. Across Michigan, space ships get ready for blast off, furry animals leap from walls, and racetracks wind their way across ceilings. The Suite Dreams Project has waved Harry Potter's wand across several rooms, and turned others into sporting shrines or a throne room for a princess.

Are there any golden rules for getting the rooms right? "Go overboard with color," says Bill, who is very particular with the colors he uses. "It's an incredible way to set a mood and pull a theme together." The little touches are also key and always appreciated by the kids. "Sometimes it's the smallest little details they'll really notice," he recalls, "it will really mean something to them."

There is also a very practical side to all this. As Dr. Madeline Turner, one of the original volunteers, points out, "it's not just fluff and buff and superficial things." The teams have a keen eye for hygiene and health, too. They check air conditioners, make sure the furnishings can be kept clean easily, and even provide wood floors when carpets would harbor harmful germs or dust. One of the more remarkable aspects of their work is the way they address the needs of the whole family. The Suite Dreams Project even pays special attention to the brothers and sisters so they don't feel left out.

Each of the volunteers seems to have a favorite room. For Lisa Engbrecht, a Child Life Specialist at the C.S. Mott Hospital, it's the jungle-themed safari room created for Jessica. Danyelle Burkart's is the rocket room refurbished for John (the first child to be helped by the Suite Dreams Project) and his twin brother Joe. As well as twin rocket ship cockpit controls surrounding the window, the team got NASA's astronauts to sign a picture for John and even arranged for a star to be named after him.

When John walked into his rocket ship "there wasn't a dry eye in the room" recalls Danyelle. Coming back from the hospital to a room full of strangers and a room that's even stranger was a little overwhelming. On arrival, John poked his head in, looked amazed and then disappeared. But his curiosity soon overcame his shyness, and before long "he was like Tigger, hopping all over the room with excitement." John's happiness and excitement "just overwhelmed me," says Danyelle.

For all the recipients' gratitude and excitement, the most remarkable thing to come out of the project may be the changes brought on the volunteers themselves. They all claim to have gotten more out of the exchange than the kids. Lisa, for one, was "incredibly touched" by Jessica's reaction and she wasn't alone. Bill Bradley has worked on about 15 of the projects. As an artist, Bill has found the work "very freeing... we can just go way over the top and have fun. You very seldom have that liberty as an artist." As a person, Bill seems transformed. "I would do it every day if I could," he enthused. "You end up getting back so much more than you put in. It's so rewarding. It's just incredible." The Suite Dreams Project mission is "contagious" according to Bill. A team recently helped three children with lung and heart problems in Gaylord, MI. Once the locals realized what was happening, six of them just dropped everything to pitch in and help. "People have really big hearts," says Bill.

Needless to say, the big-hearted Suite Dreams Project volunteers get very attached to the kids - perhaps almost too attached. As Lisa puts it, "it doesn't end when the bedroom finishes." The volunteers often develop long-term relationships with the children and their families. Getting so close can be very painful. Danyelle "instantly became a fixture" of John's life, bringing her own kids round to visit and play with both John and Joe. When John passed away last July, "it was almost like losing a family member," says Danyelle. But she wouldn't have done anything differently. "I was blessed by having known him," she confesses.

None of this would have been possible without Kay and Kris. According to Lisa they both "truly have kind spirits," and she finds it "very difficult to put into words how wonderful these people are." Kay is the dreamer, the originator, and the idea person. Kris has been the dynamic force, pushing the project forward at a much quicker pace than anyone first anticipated. Dr. Turner describes Kris as "a real go-getter," and she characterizes both as "almost maniacs" when it comes to the Suite Dreams Project. Both Kay and Kris continue to give a lot of their time to the project, but Kay also assured me, as did the other volunteers, "that we get back so much more than we give." She sees it as "a real blessing to get the chance to help these children."

One of the reasons they've been so successful, according to Kris, is that they've managed to attract a younger, more hands-on set of volunteers. "We're tapping into a new generation," she explains. Many committee members are active moms between 30 and 40 with young kids of their own.

Looking at the Suite Dreams Project's achievements so far, it's hard to believe that it was founded just six years ago. But this phenomenal success story is "merely the beginning of something wonderful that is going to last for a very long time," says Lisa. "It's going to continue to grow and touch more and more lives," and the Suite Dreams Project's goals are not just ambitious in scale. Behind the paint pots and stuffed animals, there's a whole philosophy beginning to develop. "Maybe we can change the way children are treated, so we focus on the whole person," suggests Lisa. Let's hope so. But even if that dream is a little way off yet, this remarkable group has already changed so much-the lives and hopes of children who can now dream again after a nightmare of illness.

"To laugh often and love much; to win the respect of intelligent persons and the affection of children; to earn the approbation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to give of one's self; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived - this is to have succeeded."

— Ralph Waldo Emerson