My first CASA case was a seven-year-old boy named Eric. On one of our early visits, I took him to an ice cream shop. He studied the choices carefully and ordered an ice cream sandwich. It wasn’t the kind most kids expect, and I could tell right away he didn’t like it. Still, he kept eating it. “Eric, you don’t have to eat that,” I said. “Yes, I do.” “No, you don’t. We can throw it away and get something else.” His face changed. “THAT WOULD BE WASTING!” When I said I’d throw i

Lily’s world became one room, rotating staff, and the occasional visit from a DCFS worker. Her tracheostomy is suctioned. Her seizures are treated. Every heartbeat and breath scrolls across monitors at the nurses’ station. Her body is kept alive.