As I scrolled through my phone, one image after another filled the screen—each photo brighter than the last. In nearly every picture, Bowen Askew’s face was lit with a smile so wide and sincere that it felt impossible not to smile back. These weren’t just casual grins. They were the kind of radiant, whole-face smiles that come from a place of pure joy, the kind that tell a story all on their own. Bowen is only three years old, yet his smile carries a depth of courage and light that many adults spend a lifetime trying to find.

Bowen lives in Dallas, Georgia, and he is the kind of child who instantly captures hearts. He is affectionate, playful, and endlessly curious about the world around him. Like many toddlers, he has his favorite things—Peppa Pig episodes that make him giggle, Magna blocks that become castles and race tracks, scooters that turn hospital hallways into tiny adventure roads. He even enjoys Yahtzee, proudly shaking the dice, even if the rules are still a mystery. But more than toys or games, Bowen’s greatest joy comes from the people he loves most: his parents, Josh and Kellie, and his big brothers, Davis and Cooper. Their presence is his safe place, his comfort, and his strength.

Just months ago, life looked very different for the Askew family. In June of 2025, Bowen began to seem unusually tired. What might have looked like a simple illness to others immediately set off alarms for his mother, Kellie, who works as a NICU nurse. A weak pulse, unusual lethargy—her professional instincts and a mother’s intuition told her something was very wrong. Without hesitation, they rushed Bowen to Children’s Health Care of Atlanta, hoping for answers and praying for reassurance.

What they received instead was news that would forever change their lives. Doctors discovered a large tumor in Bowen’s brain. Further testing revealed the diagnosis: Choroid Plexus Carcinoma (CPC), an extremely rare and aggressive form of cancer. Only about one percent of brain tumors are classified as CPC. It is the kind of diagnosis that takes the air out of a room, the kind that makes time feel like it stops. In a matter of moments, the Askew family went from worrying about a tired toddler to facing a life-threatening illness.

There was no time to wait. Bowen was scheduled for an intense, nine-hour surgery to remove the tumor. For Josh and Kellie, those hours were filled with unimaginable fear. Every minute stretched, every update felt like holding their breath. Josh later shared that there were moments he truly believed they might lose their little boy. When the surgery was finally over and doctors confirmed it had been successful, relief washed over them—but they knew this was only the beginning.

Bowen spent a week in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, surrounded by machines, monitors, and a medical team working tirelessly to help him heal. Just when the family thought they might finally be turning a corner, another setback came. Only two days after being sent home, Bowen developed a serious infection inside his skull. He was rushed back to the hospital, where doctors had to remove part of his skull and begin heavy antibiotic treatment. For any family, this would be overwhelming. For a three-year-old, it was an enormous physical and emotional challenge.

Yet through it all, Bowen continued to smile.

Even in pain, even in unfamiliar hospital rooms, even when his tiny body was exhausted from procedures and medications, Bowen’s joyful spirit remained. Nurses, doctors, and visitors were constantly struck by his positivity. His laughter echoed down hallways. His bright eyes and playful energy reminded everyone around him that this was still a little boy who wanted to live, to play, to love, and to be loved.

Seeking the best possible care, the Askew family traveled to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital in Memphis. There, doctors gave them renewed hope and a stronger treatment plan. Bowen began chemotherapy, and thankfully, he was able to avoid radiation. Each cycle of chemo brought its own challenges—fatigue, low blood counts, transfusions, and waiting anxiously for his bone marrow to recover enough to continue. The family found themselves living in a rhythm of hospital schedules, lab results, and careful monitoring.

At the time of sharing Bowen’s story, he had completed three cycles of chemotherapy and was preparing for the fourth. However, his body needed more time to recover. His parents waited patiently, understanding that every delay was not a setback, but a necessary step to protect their son’s long-term health. In these waiting periods, faith, hope, and love became their daily medicine.

Despite everything, Bowen’s personality has never faded. At St. Jude, he has become something of a little celebrity. Nurses smile when they see his name on their schedules. Doctors are greeted by his laughter. Friends and staff alike describe him as a ray of sunshine—proof that even in a place filled with heavy stories and difficult battles, joy can still exist. His smile has become a symbol of resilience, a reminder that hope is not just possible, it is powerful.

For Josh and Kellie, this journey has been an emotional rollercoaster. There are days filled with gratitude and hope, and others weighed down by fear and exhaustion. This is not the life they imagined for their family. This is not the childhood they dreamed of for their son. And yet, in the midst of it all, they have found a deeper purpose. They have seen how Bowen’s story encourages others. They have witnessed how his strength gives courage to families walking similar paths. They have felt the prayers, support, and love from people near and far.

Their faith has become an anchor. In moments when the future feels uncertain, they hold onto the belief that Bowen’s life has meaning beyond what they can see right now. They believe that his journey—no matter how difficult—has the power to bring light into dark places, to remind others that even in suffering, love can be louder than fear.

One of the things the family looks forward to most is the day they can finally return home to Paulding County, Georgia. Home represents normalcy. Home means big brother hugs without hospital restrictions. Home means familiar toys, favorite shows, and the comfort of their own beds. It means scooters in the driveway, Magna block towers on the living room floor, and Peppa Pig playing in the background. But until Bowen is strong enough, they are exactly where they need to be—focused on healing, one day at a time.

Bowen Askew’s story is not just about cancer. It is about courage in its purest form. It is about a three-year-old boy who refuses to let his circumstances define his spirit. It is about a family who stands strong, even when their hearts are tired. It is about love that shows up every day, in hospital rooms and waiting areas, in whispered prayers and quiet tears.

At just three years old, Bowen is already teaching the world powerful lessons. He shows us that strength does not depend on size. He proves that joy can exist alongside pain. He reminds us that a smile—especially a child’s smile—can be an act of bravery.

As Bowen continues his fight, he carries with him the love of his parents, the pride of his brothers, and the support of countless people who have been touched by his story. His journey is far from over, but one thing is certain: Bowen Askew is a little warrior with a superhero heart. And as long as that bright, fearless smile continues to shine, it will light the way—not only for him, but for everyone who believes in hope.