"Two weeks ago, there was a two-month-old baby in the hospital, but the one who needed the story most was the mother."

BarcelonaIt's Monday and Matthew and Aidan, aged six and eight respectively, are at the Sant Pau pediatric day hospital. While receiving treatment, each one entertains himself as best he can: the former with a tablet and the latter with a mobile phone. Suddenly, Laura and Gisela, professional storytellers, burst into the room in their lab coats, tights, and colorful flip-flops, and their cart (a customized wheelchair) full of books, and ask the children if they'd like to hear a story. They both answer affirmatively. For Matthew, this is his first contact with the children. Tales that healFrom that moment on, the two little ones stop being just patients and become what they are: children who let themselves be carried away by the magic of a story, who are infected by the emotion with which the storytellers tell the adventures of thePirate Malapata and Bunny Ralph, who laugh and interact with each other—when they previously didn't even know each other—while imagining, with the help of the narrators, that they are aboard a pirate ship.

What happens in that room, where Matthew's mother, Nataly, and Aidan's sister, Rocío, are also present, is pure magic. The two children immerse themselves in the stories Laura and Gisela tell them and connect with them perfectly. After listening attentively to both stories and being rewarded by the narrators with bookmarks and stickers, they spend a good while chatting about their country of origin and even asking their relatives to go play at each other's houses.

Moments of entertainment and relaxation

At the end of the session, Aidan explains that he really enjoyed Laura and Gisela's visit. "I loved the stories, especially the one about the pirate Malapata," he notes. Rocío notes that during the session she saw her brother "excited, entertained, and very participative." She also explains that she finds the storytelling initiative very interesting: "Having an activity to entertain oneself with beyond just a mobile phone is very successful," notes Rocío, who also expresses the hope that this "continues to be done and extended to other hospitals." Aidan's sister emphasizes that "through stories you can imagine stories and transport yourself to the moments being recounted."

The Matthew Hospital had previously participated in some of the sessions. Tales that healHis mother emphasizes that, when the children are hospitalized and bored, "seeing someone arrive wearing these flashy clothes, loaded with stories, telling stories with such passion, etc., really catches their attention." The children, she continues, "are distracted and disconnect for a while from the reality they are going through." So are the families, since, as Nataly acknowledges, their mood depends greatly on their son's mood, and therefore, when she sees Matthew entertained and happy, for her "it's also a shot in the arm." When other people come, be they hospital clowns, storytellers, or musicians, Nataly points out, "the little ones fade away from their hospital routine, which translates into many benefits, such as an improved attitude toward their admission or treatment." This mother is "very grateful" that the hospital is not only concerned about their health, but also about the emotional state of the child and their parents, "who are the ones who support them."

Children, families and healthcare personnel

Laura Asensio and Gisela Llimona's paths crossed three years ago. Upon meeting, they realized they shared a desire: to tell stories in hospitals. In Llimona's case, the desire arose after her daughter was admitted to the hospital when she was 2 years old, while Asensio's desire was awakened after her experience as a hospital clown and when she began working as a storyteller. "I wanted to return to hospitals and felt they were two professions that could merge," she recalls. This is how the project was born. Tales that heal, who currently visit children admitted to three Catalan hospitals. "It wasn't just an initiative for the admitted child, but for the people accompanying them and the medical staff," Llimona points out. And she points out that there are cases in which the patient isn't the most important part. "Two weeks ago, there was a two-month-old baby admitted, but the one who most needed the story, distraction, and being able to talk was the mother," she recalls. The nurses wanted to hold a session for the entire medical staff.

Moments of light in the midst of darkness

"In hospitals, there are too many screens, and in a place where hospitalized children spend so many hours, it's very interesting to offer alternatives," Asensio emphasizes. The emotional, social, and therapeutic aspects are also key, ranging from helping them express emotions and identify them in a story or a character to listening to other stories and being able to step outside their own for a few moments. "It's very healing on a mental level," the storyteller notes. "We also seek to empower them and let them choose the books they want to read, in addition to reinforcing habits like listening and expressing themselves," Llimona adds. "Through words, a very beautiful connection is created," they both agree. A connection that, at times, as a result of the illness, had become blurred between parents and children, and now, as a result of the storytellers, has re-emerged. "Sometimes, we see families who are distant from each other reconnect through stories; the parents participate and laugh, and the children rediscover that parent they played with not so long ago," they emphasize.

The storytellers adapt the session to each child's needs. Some, for example, are afraid of being given medication, and so they tell a story to distract them while they're getting an IV or administering medication. There are children who don't want to hear stories because they don't feel well, because they don't feel like it, or because they're angry, "and that should also be accepted and respected," they agree. "We've also supported an end-of-life process through storytelling, including the story for the parents, and these are sessions in which magical things happen," explains Asensio. In turn, Limón, who before Tales that heal Having never worked in hospitals, she admits that at first she was afraid of encountering very sick children. "I was very respectful of oncology and children at the end of life, and I've discovered that it's a very difficult time, and through your work, you offer moments of light in the midst of darkness," she notes.

Emotional and relational therapeutic tool

"We knew that an activity like this could transform a difficult day into a special moment," explains M. Alejandra Pérez, pediatric nurse supervisor at Sant Pau Hospital. She notes that hospitalization often isolates children from their usual environment, and recovering the value of stories, of the connection with words and imagination, "seemed like a wonderful way to make them feel at home." In her opinion, it's a "magical" time, in which children "go from worry to surprise to laughter," and that, she emphasizes, "is priceless." And, as the nurse emphasizes, the stories Gisela and Laura tell "not only weave emotions, but also create a safe and welcoming space." A moment of enjoyment that hospitalized children can extend over time through the book lending service provided by the storytellers. This, in Pérez's words, is a very powerful tool "to mentally escape from the clinical space and enter imaginary worlds that make them dream, create, and even explore." Even more so because it's also a way to foster a love of reading. Regarding the evidence of how these moments of disconnection influence patients' attitudes and progress, the pediatric nurse supervisor at Sant Pau assures that "it's evident" that when a child is calmer, more connected to their emotions, and surrounded by positive energy, they cope better with any treatment. "These storytelling moments contribute to emotional well-being, which translates into a better attitude toward the hospital process and its progress," she concludes.