While most teenagers celebrate their birthdays surrounded by laughter, cake, and music 🎂🎈, Iga spent her 17th birthday in a quiet hospital room — her hand wrapped tightly in plaster, her fingers swollen and bruised. 🏥💭 No party lights, no dancing friends — just the steady hum of machines and the soft voice of her mother by her side.

It wasn’t an accident. The blue fingers, the pain — they were just another cruel reminder of the illness she’s been battling for years. 💧 But even in that moment, Iga didn’t cry. She smiled. 🌼 A small, gentle smile that seemed to hold more strength than any medicine could ever give.

Her mother, watching her, whispered through tears, “💬 Iga teaches me how to rise after every blow.” Those words carry the kind of truth that only love and suffering together can reveal.

That broken finger isn’t just a sign of pain — it’s a symbol of endurance, of a girl who keeps fighting even when her body wants to rest. It’s proof that courage doesn’t always roar; sometimes it simply smiles back at life and says, “I’m still here.” 🌈💖

So today, let’s celebrate Iga — not for a birthday party she couldn’t have, but for the light she keeps alive in spite of everything. 🎉💐 May every wish whispered today carry her healing, comfort, and endless hope.

Because brave hearts like hers remind us that strength isn’t about what you conquer — it’s about how softly you choose to shine through the storm. 💞🕊️