This Halloween Should Have Been Full of Costumes, Candy, and Laughter.

But for little Cylus, this Halloween is different. There are no costumes, no friends to chase pumpkins with, no running door to door for candy. Instead, Cylus is curled up on the couch, his tiny body exhausted from the unrelenting battle against cancer.

Months ago, when his hair fell out, his parents joked that he could pull off the perfect “Mr. Clean” costume. But that was before the infections, the endless fatigue, and the countless battles in the hospital. Now, instead of chasing candy, Cylus faces pain, needles, scans, and nausea — things no five-year-old should ever have to endure.

But despite it all, his spirit remains unshaken. “He doesn’t need a superhero costume,” his mom whispered. “He’s a real one.”

Every day, Cylus fights. He endures what most of us will never know, yet still, he smiles. He tells his baby brother stories, dreams about candy, and carries on. Last year, he was running from door to door, laughing with his friends. This year, cancer has stolen the ordinary joys of childhood, but it hasn’t stolen his heart, his courage, or his light.

His mom, reflecting on the battle her son fights, wrote, “Trick or treat your butts off with your babies tonight — for Cy.”

Tonight, his job is simple: to rest, to keep fighting, and to continue teaching the world what Halloween — and life — truly mean. Gratitude. Courage. Love. The smallest moments carry the most profound lessons.

As we celebrate this Halloween, let’s carry Cylus with us. Let’s remember that it’s not just about costumes or candy, but about the quiet strength of the little warriors among us — those who, even in their darkest battles, shine brighter than anything else.