KEY POINTS:
This is not a story about a sick child. Nor is it about the pandemonium that strikes when your child is diagnosed with cancer.
It is a story of hope and kindness - and the army that marshals when a family need it.
Last summer, the Hancock family of Whenuapai appeared in the Herald every day for a week in a series testing summer products. The smiling faces of parents Chris and Toni and their children Rory and twin girls Libby and Petra beamed - life was good.
Then, on March 19, the day after the girls had torn around the playground in their kindergarten bike-a-thon, a radiologist handed Chris and Toni a box of tissues and told them there was bad news about Petra.
After tests for blood in her urine, a scan had revealed a growth on one of her kidneys. It was cancer.
Two days later in the Starship, surgeons removed a wilms' tumour - a 600g malignant mass the size of a brick - graded stage 4 on the 1-5 scale.
It meant the cancer had spread - there was a smaller growth on Petra's lung. Petra was 4.
Over the next nine months, Petra endured eight radiotherapy treatments and her tiny body was blasted with almost weekly chemotherapy.
Petra's cheeky, feisty spirit shone. At times, even when she lost her hair, it was difficult to remember she was so ill, as she played and shrieked with her brother and sister.
It was her parents who bore the burden of understanding her plight. Mr Hancock remembers all too well the shock of the diagnosis.
"Because I'd lost my father from cancer, I couldn't even use the word - I couldn't think our little girl hadcancer."
The reaction of family, friends and even complete strangers will always be a vivid memory too.
"It blew us away - it makes a huge difference knowing people support you," Mr Hancock said this week.
"A lot of people didn't know what to say to us, so they'd bake cakes or make dinner."
Throughout Petra's treatment, their freezer was full of food from kindergarten mothers and neighbours, their lawns were mowed, their house was insulated, and their other children looked after. Petrol vouchers arrived anonymously, and a portable building was donated to accommodate family.
Family, including the couple's brothers and sisters, provided enormous support, including the important task of just listening when they wanted to shed a tear and talk.
Mrs Hancock's Catholic parish of St Patrick's, Huapai, plied the family with meals and prayers and Mr Hancock's work colleagues at ad agency Alphabet Soup shouldered his workload and afforded him understanding. This Christmas, instead of dishing out client gifts, the firm gave money to the Child Cancer Foundation.
At the Starship, the staff were amazing, said Mr Hancock. "You hear all the negatives about the health system, but once Petra was diagnosed, there was no waiting around and this big team of people swooped in."
Petra's oncologist, Dr Jane Skeen, took complete control and the family appreciated especially nurses George and Tania. "George, who was with Petra for the first three months, was amazing, giving us hugs and crying with us," said Mr Hancock.
The Child Cancer Foundation was a non-intrusive wealth of information and support. "A lot of the time you didn't want to ask questions because you were too afraid of the answers.
"But you knew there was somewhere to ask."
Last month, Petra was granted a wish by the Make-a-Wish Foundation - a week at theme parks on the Gold Coast. It was a welcome respite from the hell the year had handed them.
But the best news came with a series of recent scans. The cancer has vanished.
Petra, now 5, started school six weeks before the end of the term with Libby; her hair is growing back a new shade of ash blonde. She's happy and confident.
Though she faces years of tests and scans to guard against the cancer's return, Mr Hancock said the results were all they had hoped for. Whatever happens, they know they have a legion of people beside them.
"The sense of community is overwhelming - it has certainly confirmed our faith in people."
