For the child living alongside a serious illness, and noticing far more than you think.
When a parent or grandparent becomes seriously ill, children notice everything: the hushed conversations, the hospital trips, the tiredness, the change in the shape of the days. What they often don’t get is an explanation that fits their age, so they fill the gaps themselves, and what they invent is usually worse than the truth.
A book gives you words that are honest without being frightening. It shows a child in the same position, feeling the same muddle of worry and anger and guilt, and it quietly says the things you might struggle to: that it isn’t their fault, that they’ll be looked after, and that it’s alright to still want to play.
These are gentle and honest. Do read them yourself first, and choose the one that matches your family’s situation. Find your child’s age and start there.
0–3
Toddlers
Something has changed at home
A toddler will not follow the illness itself, but they notice the tiredness, the absences and the day going a different shape. All three were written for exactly this age, which is rare. The first two come from the American Cancer Society and are about cancer specifically, and the third is about a friend being ill rather than a family member.
A mother explains her breast cancer to a very small child as a boo-boo with polka dots on it, and walks them through what happens next, hair included. It was written by a mother of two and illustrated by her own young daughter, which is part of why it lands. One of very few books on this pitched anywhere near this young.
A small boy gives each of his feelings a colour while his mother goes through treatment, and not one of the colours is the wrong one to have. A sturdy board book with a pop-up at the end, so it survives being handled. It stays with the feelings rather than explaining the illness, which is the right way round at this age.
Written by Vanessa Bayer, who was treated for leukaemia as a child, and it answers the question a small child actually has, which is what to do and what to say. It is about a friend rather than a family member, so it works just as well for the child whose classmate is ill. Gentle, rhyming and very short.
A little girl wonders where her mother’s hair has gone, and the story explains chemotherapy in a light, matter-of-fact way, making clear that cancer isn’t catching and isn’t anybody’s fault. It manages to be genuinely funny in places, which is a relief for everyone. Widely recommended by cancer support services, and available in Spanish too.
Written by a clinical social worker for a child whose parent is depressed. It names the symptoms plainly, says what treatment actually looks like, and repeats the two things a small child most needs to hear, that they did not cause it and they cannot fix it. There are spaces to draw in and a long note for the adult at the back.
Anna’s baby sister goes into hospital for major surgery, and Anna is left with the fear, the boredom and the resentment of not being the one everybody is worried about. Written by a mother out of her own family’s experience. It is the only book on this page told from the well sibling’s side.
Wyatt’s mum has multiple sclerosis, so some days are fast and some are slow, and the book is the two of them having adventures scaled to whichever sort of day it is. The walking stick becomes a magic wand. Written by a mother with MS, and the first book on this page about a long-term illness that is not cancer.
A plain account of what changes at home when a mother is ill, whether that is a bug for a fortnight or something that goes on for months, and what a child can usefully do about it. Written and illustrated by a mother who spent months bedridden with a pregnancy illness. Practical rather than emotional, which suits some children far better.
Mia and Stuart work out how bodies work in the first place, and then why some bodies stop feeling good and do not get better. It covers chronic and terminal illness in general rather than one condition, which makes it the most widely useful book on this page. Honest about the fact that some illnesses do not go away.
Two brothers make a paper chain to count down the days of their mother’s cancer treatment, and the book follows the whole family through the strange, wobbly months. It’s honest about how life changes and how children feel pushed aside, and it gives them something practical to do. A steadying read for a family in the middle of it.
Written as a girl’s own journal through her mother’s cancer treatment, this records everything: the medical facts, the fear, the annoyance, the ordinary days that carry on regardless. Older children appreciate being given the real information rather than a softened version. Frank and warm, and good for a child who copes by understanding.
A boy’s dad goes grey and distant, and the colour drains out of the whole book along with him. The boy is certain he has caused it, and is told three separate times that he has not, which is the line that does the work. His father gets help, including a spell in hospital, and the colour comes back.
Jonny’s mum is in hospital, so he goes in to investigate who all the staff are and what each of them actually does, which stops the place being frightening. Written by a radiographer who then became ill herself. It comes in several versions for different conditions, including a diabetes one, so pick whichever fits your family.
Cymbeline has never been swimming and he does not know why. When he tries anyway and it goes badly, his mum has a breakdown and is taken into hospital, and he is left piecing together what has happened to his family. Worth knowing before you hand it over: there is a mental health crisis, a bereavement by drowning that surfaces part way through, and a scene near the end that some readers take as a suicide attempt. It is funny and warm alongside all of that, and it is very good on how confusing things get when the adults stop explaining.
Conor’s mother is very ill, and each night a great tree-monster comes to draw out the truth he can’t bear to admit. It’s fierce and beautiful and completely honest about the guilt and anger that come with a parent’s illness. Intense and pitched at the older end, so read it yourself first and share it when you feel your child is ready.
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Something to do together
A ‘what’s happening’ printable is on its way
A gentle page for setting out what a child has been told, what they’re wondering about, and who they can ask, so nothing has to be guessed at. I’m making it now, and it will live here soon.
One last thing
Children almost always cope better with the truth, told simply and at their level, than with a silence they have to fill themselves. What they most need to hear is that it isn’t their doing, that someone will always look after them, and that they can ask anything.
So keep them in the picture in words that fit their age, let them carry on playing and laughing without guilt, and tell their teacher what’s going on so there’s a kind eye on them at school. Many hospitals and cancer support organisations have specialists who help families talk to children, and they’re well worth asking about.
These pages are written for the grown-ups looking after a child: parents, teachers and carers. A good book can sit beside a worried child, though it never stands in for a real conversation, or for proper support when something feels too big to carry alone.
Chosen by Georgia Clare, author, bibliotherapist and mother of two, for Book Quote Therapy.