In the dim light of dawn, long before the city had fully awakened—before jeepneys roared and vendors filled the streets—a young couple, Howard who works as a messenger and wife Marivic, frequently made their way toward the Philippine General Hospital in Manila back in 2002. The sky was barely turning blue, but they were already exhausted. In the mother’s arms was their two-and-a-half-year-old son Kevin whose small body seems weakened by the cruel grip of a critical illness.
To the people whom they bumped into during their commutes, they were just another family entering the massive gates of PGH, blending into the steady flow of worried faces that passed through its halls every day. But to themselves, they were parents fighting a war they never trained for—armed only with courage, desperation, and a love so fierce it overwhelmed their fears.
The Weight of Poverty in the Face of Sickness
Life is never easy for Kevin’s family. They didn’t think about vacations or outings, but about next month’s rent, next week’s bills, next day’s meals, and whether the coins in their pockets could stretch far enough. Life was already a delicate balancing act.
Then came Kevin’s diagnosis. Their only child back then has Leukemia.
Suddenly, the small budget meant for food and survival had to make space for blood tests, medicines, chemotherapy sessions, and transportation. Every peso was a sacrifice. Every day meant choosing between what was urgent and what was essential.
At PGH, the hallways were always full. Parents camped out with blankets on the floor. Babies cried in their mothers’ arms. Nurses weaved through the chaos with practiced calm. For Kevin’s mother, those hallways became her world—the place where she would cradle her son, whispering prayers into the crook of his neck, refusing to let him see her cry.
His father, meanwhile, took on the silent suffering men often carry alone. He ran from one window to another, completing forms with shaking hands. He stood in pharmacy lines that snaked like rivers through the hallways. Sometimes he returned empty-handed because certain medicines were simply too expensive. On those days, he stepped into a quiet corner and allowed himself a tear—never more than one—before straightening up for his family.
A hospital is a place of exhaustion, but also of wishful thinking.
A place where parents held their breath, doctors fought relentlessly, and hope flickered like a stubborn flame refusing to die out.
A Moment of Grace in the Darkest Days
The Make-A-Wish came into Kevin’s life at a time when the family didn’t even know if tomorrow was promised. Word had reached them about a little boy who smiled through pain, who still clung to joy despite the battle raging inside his tiny body.
When they met Kevin’s parents, they asked what their child wished for. A simple question—but for a family drowning in fear, it felt like a lifeline.
Kevin, even at that young age, had a bright, curious spirit. He loved watching television—especially when Kris Aquino appeared. To him, she was a symbol of warmth, kindness, and joy.
So when asked, Kevin wished for one thing:
To meet Kris Aquino.
Yes. The Philippines’ Queen of All Media.
They did not expect it to come true. Wishes felt like luxuries. Miracles were for other people.
But then, in one unforgettable moment, something unexpected arrived.
The Day Kris Aquino Walked into Their Lives
On the 26th of September 2002, Kris Aquino, at the height of her career, met Kevin in a mall with the gentlest smile. She carried gifts chosen with love: toys, clothes, other useful stuff and a television set so Kevin could watch his favorite shows which includes Kris’ daily programs, of course.
But what struck the family most wasn’t the material abundance—it was the sincerity.
Kris spent an extraordinary moment with Kevin.
She touched his hand, brushed his hair, and whispered to him softly.
She spoke to his parents not as a celebrity, but as a mother—one who knew too well the fragile balance between strength and fear.
For a poor family who often felt invisible, Kris made them feel seen.
For parents whose hope was torn, she helped stitch it back together.
For a child fighting for his life, she gave a much-needed small victory.
Kris didn’t just fulfill a wish.
She lit a candle in the darkness.
The Long Road to Recovery
Kevin’s fight didn’t end that day. Treatment continued—long, painful, exhausting. There were nights his mother couldn’t sleep, nights his father couldn’t eat. Days filled with playing the waiting game, IV drips, hospital gowns, and prayers that dissolved into tears.
But something had changed.
The encounter with Kris didn’t cure Kevin, but it strengthened their family. It reminded them that kindness was alive even in the bleakest places. It taught them that people they had never met could care. That hope could survive even in poverty.
Through the help of other people who cared for Kevin, he also got treatments at Rizal Medical Center in Pasig City.
And slowly—miraculously—Kevin recovered after almost 6 years of grueling but inspiring journey.
Against every fear, every sleepless night, every terrifying prognosis, Kevin survived.
Kevin Today: A Life Reclaimed
Today, Kevin Clark Taguinod is 26 years old.
The eldest among five siblings.
A leukemia survivor.
A young hardworking employee in BGC, walking confidently through skyscrapers that once felt like distant dreams.
He laughs easily now. He works with dedication. He lives fully.
But he never forgets the older version of himself—the child lying in hospital beds from one city to another, fighting for another sunrise.
He never forgets the faces of his parents—hopeful, fearful, unwavering.
And he never forgets Kris Aquino.
A Message from a Survivor to His Wish Granter Who is Fighting Her Own Battle
Now, as Kris Aquino faces her own health struggles, Kevin carries in his heart the same compassion she gave him more than two decades ago.
“Maraming salamat sa lahat po. Lalo na po kay Ms. Kris Aquino. Sana po magpagaling din po kayo, mam. God bless po,” Kevin responded when asked what he wants to say to Kris if they will meet again.
For Kevin, Kris isn’t just a celebrity.
She is part of his story… his journey of survival.
A chapter of light in a book filled with pain and triumph.
A Reminder for Us All
A wish kid’s journey—from poverty and hospital corridors to healing to a meaningful life—reminds us that the world is still full of extraordinary kindness.
That one act of compassion can ripple across decades. That hope can come from the most unexpected people. That even in suffering, a beautiful life can thrive and grow.
When kindness touches a life, it echoes forever. One wish granted to a child is a life-changing moment to a village: Brings a lasting impact to families, volunteers and communities.
Make-A-Wish, the largest wish-granting organization in the world, is a foundation that grants wishes of children with critical illnesses to enrich the human experience with hope, strength and joy.
Sidenote: The author scheduled a face-to-face interview with Kevin and his mother, but the meeting was cancelled due to Typhoon Uwan. When the two parties agreed to do a virtual meeting, another challenge happened after Kevin encountered a holdupper on his way home from work as a dishwasher. His mobile phone was taken from him. We used his mother Marivic’s phone for the interview and follow-up chat queries. When asked for his three wishes for this year, Kevin enumerated, “Good health that Leukemia will not come back; a simple Christmas dinner with his family; and a brand new cellphone.”
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