"In a small playroom at the Children's Medical Center in Dallas, Michelle York of Kaufman is playing peek-a-boo with her 5-month-old son, Khristopher, trying to make him smile.

The baby is cradled in the arms of Genette Parsons, although he can't see her.

Genette is draped in a dark gray cloth. Her job is to blend into the background while holding Khristopher as her friend Synthia Miller snaps his photograph.

It's a simple, familiar moment in most families' lives, getting your child photographed. But when your baby has been in and out of hospitals since birth, as Khristopher has, when he suffers from respiratory problems that make his mother fearful of taking him into public spaces, and when you have three other children at home, photos just aren't a priority.

"I don't really have any pictures of him," Ms. York says.

That's why Genette and Synthia are here. The close friends created Heartworks Photography, a nonprofit organization to provide free portraits to families with children suffering life-threatening illnesses.

The idea, they say, comes out of a long friendship shaped by similar values, blessings and hobbies.

"We both enjoy life. We feel blessed by our choices of husbands, I guess you would say, and we both love photography. We wanted to contribute or give back in some way," Synthia of Carol Stream, Ill., says.

Inspiration struck three years ago, when Synthia was in Dallas visiting Genette, who lived here at the time. The two had become friends more than a decade ago after meeting at a four-wheel-drive event in Illinois.

Reading the newspaper one morning, Synthia came across an article about a photographer who donated Polaroid pictures to children with cancer at a local hospital.

The women began to think. What if they took photos of sick children, too? Genette, a grandmother, loves photographing children. Synthia, also an avid photographer, was once a sick kid herself.

"You became the illness," she says. "They didn't see you anymore as a kid."

What if they airbrushed from the photos the white tape, the tubes and the medical equipment that the kids had to drag around – the stuff that didn't allow others to see them just as kids?

What if they let the children dress up like cowboys or princesses, playing pretend like any other kid? What if they offered portrait packages, so that parents could place a framed picture of their little one who happened to be sick among the family collection? And what if they allowed siblings to join in, if they wanted, so that there's finally a family photo?

In nearly two years, the pair has photographed more than 1,600 kids in eight cities across the country.

They've heard from parents who tell them that their child died shortly after having the portraits made. There's the mother who says that she was able to see her baby's features for the first time because she had never seen the child without the white tape and tubes snaking along her face.

There's a waiting list for their services and a growing need for their work. Lately, they've been hearing from families who ask if they can edit photos of children they've lost because the children are surrounded by medical equipment and bandages.

Heartworks, once born out of their personal desire to give back, has now grown bigger than they anticipated, Genette and Synthia say.

"When we first started this, this was ours," Genette says. "Now it's become an entity in and of itself.

"In five years, if we're tired and we can't do it anymore, we want it to go on."

The women kid about how they would fund an endowment to allow Heartworks to continue. Genette plans to win the lottery. Synthia is going on Survivor, certain of winning on the popular television show.

Actually, the women are seeking grants and donations to help them expand their work and ensure that it will continue if they step aside.

But neither has any intention of quitting any time soon. There's work to do. Five-year-old David Cisneros stands at the door of the playroom, wearing a green camouflage cap and tentatively peering inside at the cameras and lights.

His older brother and sister are with him. Genette tells the three to take off their socks and shoes. They sprawl on the floor, leaning close to each other. Synthia begins to shoot.

At the end, she shows David the images on her camera. He is deaf and cannot speak, but his face lights up. He points to the camera and then himself.

Evelia Cisneros, his mother, is watching. Her oldest son, Jesus, translates for her. She feels happy.

"This is the first time that they are all together for a picture," she says."

By KAREN M. THOMAS / The Dallas Morning News
06:16 PM CDT on Friday, August 13, 2004

To contact the Author of this Article, Email : kthomas@dallasnews.com