Hazel Perron was 6 years old in February 2022 when she was diagnosed with a diffuse midline glioma, an incurable brain tumour. A kindergartner at École Centrale, a K-to-Grade-5 French-immersion school in Winnipeg, Hazel loved to learn, “loved going to school. She loved everything about school,” says her mother, Megan Perron.
Soon after the diagnosis, Perron informed the school that Hazel would undergo radiation treatments to try to slow the progress of the disease. “The school was super excellent,” says Perron. “Whenever Hazel wanted to go see her friends, when she was feeling up to it, they were like, ‘Yep, come right now.’ ”
And once Hazel had undergone six weeks of radiation treatments, she asked to go back to school.
When a child’s promise of a future is abruptly shattered by a terminal illness, the child and its family have to decide whether to continue with school. Often, the child, like Hazel, will choose school.
Sick or not, for children school is more than a place of study. It’s a community. The place where they spend time with their friends. The place where they grow, play and explore who they are. And, as Jessica Lizotte, a child life specialist at the Winnipeg Children’s Hospital, points out, children thrive on routine and crave normalcy.
Perron agrees. Going to school made Hazel “feel a little bit more normal than what she was going through.”
By choosing school, terminally ill children choose life. “Children are kids first and sick second,” says Lizotte.
The Canadian Cancer Society says brain and spinal-cord tumours are the second most common cancer diagnosis in children, after leukemia. For decades, countries such as France and the United Kingdom have raised awareness regarding education for terminally ill children.
In Canada, resources such as the London Ontario Children’s Hospital’s “Helping Schools Cope with Childhood Cancer” provide support to educators for children expected to survive their cancer diagnosis. Countries such as the U.K. have gone further, developing support structures for their schools and educators that focus on children who require palliative care and will die. Helping Children Who Need Palliative Care Access Education is an online and print resource in the U.K. that serves as a guide for schools and educators trying to care for both their school community and a child with a terminal illness.
Continuing with school provides ill children with an opportunity to control one aspect of life when most things feel out of control.
In her 37-year career, Michelle Williams has encountered this situation twice, most recently as principal at École Centrale, the school Hazel attended.
Williams says that as soon as parents tell the school about their child’s diagnosis, the parents are asked how they want their child supported in school and how much information they want shared with classmates and the school community at large. The answers guide the approach of the school’s team, which includes the school division’s clinical professionals – a social worker, occupational therapist and psychologist.
Transparency and communication are vital for successful implementation of a plan, she says. And the plan does not end with the death of the child; it extends into the bereavement period, with continued care for the school community.
Tanja Borchers, a pediatric palliative-care physician in the Southern Health-Santé Sud regional health authority of Manitoba, also highlights the importance of a multidisciplinary team approach and communication. “My experience has been that schools often feel a bit intimidated … But any of the interactions I have had have been very positive ones.”
Borchers says she remembers a 10-year-old boy who had been diagnosed with cancer. When healthy, he was engaged with friends and loved hockey. His illness changed him, both physically and emotionally, but he still wanted to hang out with his friends. He was admitted to a small community hospital in rural Manitoba. Since he could not go to the school, the school decided to go to him. They planned to walk from the school to the hospital, a 10-minute walk.
To organize the day, Borchers, the school principal and teachers met to identify the needs of the boy’s classmates and friends as well as those of staff. The next step was for children to discuss the trip to hospital with their classroom teachers, school staff and Borchers. They could ask questions and share their worries and were allowed to opt out of the visit without recriminations. At the hospital, the children were treated to pizza and ice cream as small groups spent time with the sick boy.
Lizotte, the child life specialist, says she always asks the dying child to think about what they want to share about themselves: “What are you going to tell people?” By allowing the child to control their narrative, the child is empowered to share as much or little of their illness as they wish, she says. This allows children to own their story, which is then picked up by the clinical team in the community, she says.
At École Centrale, the clinical team met with different classrooms, creating opportunities for both children and teachers to have one-on-one time with the psychologist and social worker.
The school’s resources included the book “The Invisible String” by Patrice Karst, in which an invisible string serves as a metaphor for love and is used to show that people are always connected with their loved ones, even when a person dies.
The string continues to be a powerful symbol the school uses in its ongoing work with grief, says Williams. “I had to understand my role in all of this and how I had to facilitate the supports … They saw me with tears as well … but (saw) that we’re working together as a team. It was a tough time.” Being able to revisit the story has allowed this school community to move forward together, she says.
After Hazel died, it was important to recognize that everyone grieves differently, to ensure that support remained accessible and that questions were answered, Williams says.
The school team decided to plant a tree in Hazel’s memory. In the spring of 2025, 18 months after her death, Hazel’s classmates and her family met to plant a memorial Maple. At its base, the children laid rocks they had painted, including one by Hazel. “We found one that Hazel had painted and we brought that,” Perron says.
The tree now stands as a reminder of Hazel and as a place where the school community meets and shares memories.
Both Williams and Borchers emphasize the importance of gathering as a community. “As you know, food always helps,” Williams says, so after Hazel died, staff brought in food to share, providing an opportunity to gather and support each other through the early stages of loss.
Successfully navigating Hazel’s illness and death “was an absolute team effort in supporting our community through all of this,” says Williams.
As for Hazel’s mother, “sending (Hazel) to school was really hard for me, because I selfishly wanted to spend every second that she had with her,” she says. “But I knew that it would be good for her to go to school, because she liked going to school. She wanted to go to school.
“It was worth it, giving up this time with her.”
