For 72 years, we have been sharing our hearts and making a difference.
We are the nation’s largest peer support network for children and adults living with heart disease, their caregivers and families.
Share Your Heart® Photo Contest 2024
This campaign is all about showing how you and those around you give support and love on your heart journey, whatever that may look like. Anyone who has been affected by heart disease - patients, caregivers, friends, family and health care professionals - is invited to enter their photo and help us spread awareness of heart disease.
The Share Your Heart Photo Contest 2024 will open February 1, 2024 at 12:00 AM and close on February 29, 2024 at 11:59 PM. You can learn more and submit your photo below.
Essay & Poetry Contest 2023 Winners
We want to recognize the courage and strength it took to write these beautiful, and sometimes heart-wrenching essays and poems. As we placed them lovingly on this site, we did so with tears streaming. Every single doctor, surgeon, nurse, healthcare professional, and person should read these, but only those who have “been there” will truly understand.
We also want to thank EVERY person who submitted a poem or essay. These are such precious gifts to patients, parents, caregivers, and family members who may be feeling so alone—not understanding that there are so many who truly understand and are willing to share their journey so others can have hope, can feel comforted, or know that they are not the only ones.
You are amazing!
Winner: Child, Grade K-5
L. Seaman
CHD is Tough but I am Tougher
My name Is Lilah, and I was born on August 31, 2012, with a congenital heart defect called hypoplastic left heart syndrome. This means the left side of my heart did not form correctly and is smaller than the right side, so I have half a heart. I had to have three surgeries on my heart. The first one was when I was seven days old, the second one was when I was two months old, and the third one was when I was almost three years old.
Sometimes my heart defect makes me feel different. I have a scar on my chest that I think is a symbol of how strong I am, and what I have been through. But at school, some kids make fun of my scar. One kid even punched my chest and said my heart is weak. That day I felt crushed. When things like this happen, I feel like I don’t belong, and I am on my own because no one truly understands what I am going through.
Although there are tough days, I try to forget about the bad ones and know that every day brings a new adventure. I know have my family and friends. I know I can be a leader to younger kids with heart defects experiencing the same things. In school, I joined the Bully Prevention Group where we worked to prevent bullying by reading to the younger kids and setting up the Kingdom of Kindness. I worked with the American Heart Association to paint a plate. I got to dress up and sell it to raise money for heart disease at the Heart Ball. It was one of the best nights of my life. I plan to do a presentation to my class this year about my heart defect because teaching people is the best way to prevent some of the bullying I have experienced.
Where I really feel I belong is at dance. I am on a dance competition team. I have worked twice as hard with half a heart to get really good. We practice eight hours a week. We do competitions where we have won awards. I even won a Top Performer award. I love to hang out with my friends and teachers. No one even mentions my scar. It is nice to be just one of girls on the team and not just a girl with a heart defect.
So, while my heart defect sometimes makes life tough, it is part of who I am and has made me even tougher. It has taught me to fight hard, do my best, and never give up.
Winner: Child, Grade 6-8
B. Ballard
The Mirror
When I look in the mirror, I don’t see the perfect girl they see. They say my life is easy, but I’ve collected my own share of scars along the way.
When I look in the mirror, I see the part of me I’ve worked so hard to hide: the unnaturally pale streak cutting my chest in two, the white slash across my shoulder blade, the hole in my stomach from the feeding tube I wore for almost five years. I see my ribs protruding from beneath my fragile skin, veins twisting like a spider’s web all over my body. My shoulders are noticeably uneven, the left one higher up than the right. Scars are cruel, constant reminders of the trauma I have endured and the pain I might one day feel again.
Most people can run from their past, deny the truth, pretend to be someone they’re not. I don’t have that getaway. Scars write my history across my torso. Pain and fear jolt through my body when other people sit idly, undisturbed. My middle school peers bring up the past when they probe me with questions, such as, “Do you have an eating disorder?” or “What’s it like being disabled?” or “When are you gonna die?”
I often wish that my elementary school had never made such a huge palaver over my unique babyhood. Maybe then, kids wouldn’t know. Other times, I wish that I could simply erase the scars that forever brand my skin, or that there was a cure to make my heart whole. What would it be like if I didn’t have Congenital Heart Disease?
I like to think that I would still be the same person I am today: smart and strong and sweet, but I find that hard to believe. My scars have been with me since before I can remember. Taking away the holes in my heart would be like taking away my whole heart. An octopus—brilliant, beautiful, beloved—has three hearts, but I only get one. Without it, I wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t love, wouldn’t live. Yes, my heart’s words sound different from the rest. But if my words melded into the cacophony of heartbeats, how would the world know that I have something to say?
When I look in the mirror, I see the beginning of who I am now: the thin, moon-pale line down the center of my chest, the ivory curve across my shoulder blade, the little place marked on my stomach where my “Tubey Button” used to live. I can see my heart beating beneath my fair skin, veins painting blue streaks across my body. My shoulders are uneven, the left one sitting a little taller than the right. Scars are beautiful, cherished merits for all that I have overcome.
To some people, I may seem like a prisoner, trapped behind the bars of my own severed ribcage. They see me as bleeding and broken, unable to escape.
But I don’t need to run from my history .
Winner: Child, Grade 9-12
C. Schendel
Heartbeat
I can feel it again. Heavy breathing, sudden worry, a heavy heartbeat, an uncontrollable rhythm. I was just sitting there, yet it feels as if I just crossed the finish line of a long marathon. But there is no finish line to this, I have to wait it out. I shouldn't have to constantly worry about my heart at such a young age. Yet, when it comes to arrhythmias, all I can do is put my life on pause.
Though my heart will beat for the wrong reasons, it thrives for the important things in life. When I feel the sensation of getting closer to opening a show, it’s a feeling like no other. When the curtain opens with my character in the play, ready to live their life to the fullest, after working on a show for months, and now, finally, able to display my character to the world; my heart beats with excitement!
Theater has its drama on and off stage. Something the audience will never see. Being a part of an extraordinary High School company requires cooperation with each other; but life can bring its challenges. It has taught me how to manage such situations. Though my heart doesn't physically help me all the time, morally, my heart knows the solutions to fix these interferences. We learn how to understand where we went wrong, we fix our mistakes, and make sure we are happy with the people we work with. So when it comes time to open the curtains for a performance, our hearts are beating with joy.
It's not just on stage where my heart beats with enthusiasm. As I open myself to my community, I learn life skills that will help me be the person I want to be, with the heart I want to have. My heart gets most excited for the Halloween season. Halloween has always brought a thrill to my life and I want to share the feeling that comes with Halloween. There was a house in our neighborhood that had the most decorations I’ve ever seen. While it was scary to walk up to the gloomy front door, I saw how much fun it was for others who came here. Eventually they moved away, and sold their collection of decorations, but I wanted to carry on their legacy. It took lots of planning, people, and money but over the years I built my own collection, with support of my family and friends. We achieved the title of “The Halloween House” in our neighborhood and every year put out my decorations, knowing the frightful fun the kids will have when they pass by our home. It's become a tradition, and my heart is all for it.
I’ve come to accept that my heart is different; and that every now and then I’ll struggle with my health. But rather than back down from an uncontrollable event, I go all out, letting each heart beat serve a purpose; it's a healthier way of living.
Winner: Adult, 18+
G. McQueen
The Scar & The Gift
The surgical scar on my chest measures six inches long. It is eight inches from where my belly button begins. If I wear a button-up shirt or a Tank-top it is visible. Sometimes, I’ll see a stranger’s eyes gaze at my scar with unasked questions. My response is typically a nod of acknowledgment and me going about my day. However, there are times when occasionally, internally I’m blurting, “Hey, this right here, this is my scar from having open-heart surgery.” But silence always wins. I’ve thought half-jokingly of getting a tattoo next to my scar with something like “x-marks the spot.”
In some ways, I am still processing I am someone with heart disease. It doesn’t run in my family. I’ve never had to take medication. I was a vegetarian. I had just turned 48 years old when I had my surgery. My blood pressure was normal. I did what most folks considered the “right thing”. True, I had a little “chubb” on me. I was quietly stressed. But otherwise, I was healthy. Even my primary-care physician initially dismissed the chest pain and shortness of breath, I experienced as GERD.
Four years post open-heart surgery, life is different. Heart medication and compression socks are part of my packing list for my international trips. I’ve begun incorporating a semi-raw diet into my eating regimen. I exercise five days a week and can now do five “girl push-ups.” I have a therapist that I check in with when I feel overwhelmed. I am beginning to recognize my limits and when I need to fall back. Day by day, I am rebuilding and regaining trust in my body, my heart, and what I am capable of. Oddly, through this experience, I am beginning to see “the real me.” Grace is a gift I have learned to give to others and myself. Doing my best no longer equates to perfection.
The hardest part of this journey has been seeing how my diagnosis and surgery affected my family. It jolted them! No one gave them or me time to digest what was happening. I understand that I had a 90% blockage in my left anterior artery, but no one seemed to take the time to explain what was happening, what to expect, and so forth. To this day, my dad is reticent about my solo travels abroad. Or if I am doing too much by walking up-and-down the flight of stairs in our home. Admittedly, so am I. I get anxious at times. But I still keep traveling to new countries, living life, doing my best, and giving myself grace just on new evolving terms.
Winner: Adult, 18+
J. Sanchez
Reborn
When most people refer to being, “reborn” they are referencing baptism. Not for me. I was reborn on the day I saw David Blaine do a magic trick on TV. I was 10 when I saw it and I shouted out loud, “That is impossible!”. It was in that moment of exhilaration that I found my love for the art of magic. Before that day, when I looked at planets or a magic trick, I observed something unexplainable, something impossible. But on the day I watched that video of David Blaine, something happened. All of the sudden, I had to know how it was done and once I did, I had to learn everything that had to happen to make the trick come alive.
Understanding this set me on a path to seeing the world in a different way. Now when I see a phone I don’t just see a device only for communication. I see the sensors that make the touch screen activate, and I see the signals that make communication possible. When I examine the universe and the world around me, I don’t just see the matter, I see the living breathing things and think back on how we were all at one point space dust. Now, when I see a magic trick I don’t see the impossibility of the trick but the beauty of the mechanics behind it. I have learned that something that may seem unexplainable, always has an explanation.
From that day on, I no longer wanted to see things in two dimensions. Instead, I had to start seeing the world around me in three, maybe even 6. I had to think of probable possibilities, study science, and examine concepts that at first seemed impossible to the naked eye. In my newfound way of thinking, I also became a “reborn” lover of magic. I taught myself tricks and made my own magician's style. To learn magic, I couldn't just see a singular deck of cards, I had to see each individual card in its entirety. I had to see the layers of paper and ink that make the card what it is. Today, I do not go anywhere without my deck of cards.
Like my deck of cards, this understanding of the world is one I carry with me each day. The understanding that there is more than meets the eye. When people look at me they may see a typical 2-dimensional teenager. What they don’t see or know is that I have a heart condition. Well, actually 3 heart conditions to be exact. This condition can make me extremely tired and susceptible to other medical issues. But you can’t see this. It’s not surface level, it’s deeper. So people may see a reserved kid but nobody dares to ask why. I understand I cannot do things others can however, perhaps what I initially thought was a disadvantage has actually given room for other passions, like magic. And while we haven’t quite found the “cure” for my condition, remember, the impossible doesn't exist. The absence of the answer doesn’t mean there isn’t one. So this hope, this understanding, this multi-dimensional view of the world is the reason I will never let my condition stop me from going on with my life.
Because of magic and what it taught me, I now urge people to not just see things as they appear but to try to see them on a deeper level. Don't see the impossible, see the possible. We can use this type of thinking to solve problems once thought to be impossible. We can pose questions, we can be a helpful, more productive society. Albert Einstein once said, “We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them”. Now I will always remember that the impossible is just something we have yet to understand.
2023 Photo Contest Winners
1st Place
2nd Place
Share Your Heart® Campaign
Share Your Heart was designed to show that instead of being defeated by heart disease, people impacted by heart disease can, and do, use their experience to improve the lives of others.
Share Your Heart is a platform for patients, caregivers, family members, and the healthcare professionals who care for them to share photos and powerful stories about how they are living with heart disease and sharing their hearts by helping others. This campaign gives heart patients of all ages a sense of community, empowers them to take charge of their own heart journey, and encourages them to share it with others.
Heart Health Awareness Video
Heart Disease Awareness Presentation
3rd Place
CHD Trivia for Kids
Cardiac Rehab Graduation
Sharing our hearts during COVID-19
COVID-19 has not stopped us from sharing our hearts with others. We continue to provide support to patients and families where we can.
“My Mom’s Heaven”
Sharing our hearts across the lifespan
Grandmas, Grandpas, Aunts, and Uncles share their hearts with the littlest heart patients of all. Heart disease can strike at any age, even before birth. People need support, education and awareness, and Mended Hearts, Young Mended Hearts and Mended Little Hearts members provide it in big ways and in the everyday ways we show love to one another.
Bravery Bags
Sharing our hearts to patients families in the hospital
Mended Little Hearts’ Bravery Bag Program is just one of the ways we share our hearts with families with children in the hospital after heart surgery and with hospital patients. Our volunteers find ways to let people in the hospital know they are not alone, and that we are there to support them.
More sharing
Big brother warrior with a mended coarctation of the aorta and little sister who supports him!
Sharing my heart and gratitude with my friends and family at our annual walk for CHD awareness. A beautiful day with the most important people. Grace, HLHS warrior, is in the middle with the gray jacket.
CJ had open heart surgery at 4 days old to correct TAPVR❤ Now, he is almost 12 years old and doing great! We love our heart warrior!
Kid and Cat! Can't do it without them!
Claire, member of Chapter 206 Palm Beach County, shares her heart with her rescue pup, Louie!
After receiving the hospitals first LVAD and many months of hospitalizations, I am lucky enough to now work along side of Nurse Della Buenafe and the other nurses who cared for me as a volunteer for Mended Hearts.
My strong double massive heart attack survivor; he is my heart.
Tom, cancer conqueror & heart attack survivor at the IRONMAN World Championship.
“The support I got from this organization gave me hope and let me know I don’t have to go it alone on this heart journey.”
— MENDED HEARTS MEMBER
