Many of us on a daily basis pass the battlefield without ever thinking or realizing a battle is taking place.  It is fought by the youngest of our generation,; children who did not volunteer to participate in this war.  It is a battle that is ongoing, never ending and it hardly ever makes headlines.  It is a war that people accept and as long as it never invades their home they hardly ever think about it.  The enemy is evasive, deceptive and patient.  It pries on everyone but the casualties it causes on children are the most discerning. The enemy comes in all forms and its arsenal is strong and continuous.  We refer to this renegade in different terms; cancer, tumors, infections, disease.  The battle with this enemy is fought in the hospital by all ages, but when it effects children that is when the war hits home.  Moms and Dads are immediately thrown to the frontlines aiding their children in any way possible; but knowing all the while that this fight will have to be fought by their child. Yes, our wonderful Doctors and Nurses will be the catalyst behind the attacks to subdue the enemy but the pain, agony, frustration will be endured by the young child.  They were not drafted, they did not volunteer to par take in this confrontation.  It does not seem fair at such a young age to deal with the issues of life and death.  It is not fair for a child to look in their parents eyes searching for hope, for truth, for answers that all is good; that everything will be OK.  They just want to go home and be a kid, to play with their friends, go to school and follow their dreams.  But for many this enemy never affords them the chance to go home again, to lay in their bed and spend a night without wires and IV's hooked to their arms.