'Faith moves mountains' - Child cancer patients write to Pope Leo
Child cancer patients at Rome’s Gemelli Hospital sent Pope Leo XIV letters and drawings as he recovered from lung surgery there. Seven-year-old Angelo said he and his mother prayed for the Pope each evening and wished him a speedy recovery. Eleonora’s family shared how faith had sustained them during her treatment, writing that “faith moves mountains” and asking God to protect the Pope. Eighteen-year-old Giorgia told the Pope that their shared experience of illness made her feel closer to him, and expressed hope that they would both recover.
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While recovering from lung surgery at Rome’s Gemelli Hospital, Pope Leo XIV received letters and drawings from young patients in its pediatric oncology ward. As he left the hospital the following day, he also met Varvara, a 13-year-old Ukrainian cancer survivor who had traveled to see him and offer him gifts. 1
The Holy See Press Office released images of letters and artwork sent by children in the hospital’s oncology ward, who shared messages of encouragement, accounts of illness and hope, and assurances of prayer for the Pope.
Angelo, seven, had been hospitalized for 36 days and had undergone head surgery. He told the Pope that he and his mother prayed for him each evening, wished him a speedy recovery, and sent a drawing of a sunlit meadow with birds and a tree.
Eleonora, whose family is Italian-Chilean, had received treatment in the children’s neurosurgery and oncology department and was reported to be healthy. In a Spanish-language letter, her mother reflected that “faith moves mountains,” credited prayer and the intercession of several saints, and asked God, the Virgin Mary and the guardian angels to protect the Pope.
Giorgia, 18, wrote that illness had forced her to put her plans on hold but had also deepened her gratitude and changed how she valued everyday things. Learning that the Pope was hospitalized made her feel closer to him, she wrote, and she expressed confidence that better days would come for both of them.
Varvara met Leo in St. Peter’s Square on December 31 while awaiting cancer surgery; she later said the encounter had given her strength. After scans confirmed her recovery, she traveled from Castellamonte, near Turin, with her parents to greet him as he departed Gemelli. 1
She told the Pope that their earlier embrace had helped her overcome the illness and that she had wanted to come to Rome to pray for him and return that embrace. Leo blessed and thanked her. 1
Varvara’s family had fled the bombing and violence in Ukraine, where she was diagnosed with cancer in 2025, and she was brought to Italy for treatment at Turin’s Regina Margherita Hospital with help from a humanitarian association. She gave the Pope a framed photograph of their earlier meeting and a felt doll modeled on the stuffed toy that had accompanied her during her displacement and treatment, wishing it would accompany him on his recovery. 1
Faith, suffering, and hope in Catholic understandings of illness and healing
Catholic faith does not teach that illness is good in itself, or that a sick person should simply endure it without seeking help. It holds together two truths: sickness and suffering are real evils to resist and relieve, yet they need not have the final word. In Christ’s Cross and Resurrection, suffering can be met with meaning, companionship, and hope—even when healing does not come.
Health is a gift, and it is right to fight illness. Christian patience is not fatalism: accepting that one is ill does not mean giving up efforts to treat, relieve, or prevent suffering. The Christian response includes doing what is possible both for oneself and for one’s neighbour.
Prayer for healing is also good and deeply human. The Church prays for the sick, and Catholic teaching presents the Anointing of the Sick as a sacrament particularly intended to strengthen people tried by illness. Its prayers ask for healing in body, soul, and spirit; they do not promise that every person will recover physically. The sacrament also points toward the resurrection, when suffering and death will be overcome.
The Catholic claim is not that pain is pleasant, or that illness should be sought. Rather, Christ entered human suffering and death; through union with him, a person’s suffering can become participation in his redemptive love. “Redemptive” here means that suffering, joined to Christ, may be offered in love and become fruitful for others and for the Church. This does not make the illness itself good; it means that illness cannot prevent God from bringing good through a person’s faithful response.
This meaning should never be imposed as a tidy explanation for why someone became ill. Catholic teaching acknowledges the mystery of suffering and emphasizes compassionate presence, not simplistic answers. The sick person’s dignity does not depend on strength, productivity, or a visible recovery.
Christian hope does not mean certainty that medical treatment will succeed or that suffering will soon end. It rests on Christ’s Resurrection: death and pain are not the ultimate reality, and nothing can separate a person from God’s love. Hope can therefore coexist with fear, grief, and uncertainty; it is trust in God’s presence now and in the promised life beyond death.
That hope also has a practical form. To stay with someone who is sick—to listen, comfort, and resist their isolation—is itself an expression of love. Even when a cure is no longer possible, care remains possible and important.
Thus Catholic faith neither romanticizes illness nor measures hope only by recovery. It encourages prayer and appropriate care, recognizes the dignity of the sick, and sees the Cross and Resurrection as the ground for enduring hope.