Several years ago I came to terms with the fact that despite my distaste for getting up early in the morning, living in New York City makes you do it, and my choice was either to move or learn how to cope. I didn’t want to leave, so I turned to one of the most powerful, natural tonics mother nature has kindly provided humankind: coffee. If I don’t get my morning dose of—get ready—four cups, I’m neurologically dysfunctional, tired, and grumpy. But this past Saturday, for reasons I will explain in due course, was entirely different. I jumped out of bed at 5:45am, was out the door half-an-hour later with less than a single cup ingested, and—are you ready for this?—I was happy.

Some background is necessary. For the past ten years, the Children’s Brain Tumor Foundation (CBTF) has hosted a morning cruise along Manhattan’s coastline for children with brain and spinal cord tumors and their families. The purpose of the event is simple: give affected kids and their families a respite from health concerns and a chance to celebrate. There’s always a DJ on board, plenty of dancing, face painting—even brunch—and, notably, no sense at all that these children are facing major health challenges. For three magical hours, these kids are simply kids.

This year’s event, with 285 participants, 37 volunteers, and three CBTF staff, was a smashing success. I’m not going to lie and tell you that I didn’t need coffee, but taking part in this celebration was mightily energizing. I love to see happiness in children. All children. But there is something profoundly fulfilling in seeing kids and families who are going through very tough times liberated from their plight and transported into a space where all they do is have fun.

Complete honesty requires me to admit something else. There was another factor contributing to my happiness, and that was the fact that Netsai, the woman I’m seeing and the subject of a post on this blog—Blind date (which she has since approved)—was with me. (She doesn’t require derivative products of coca beans to be happy in the morning).

Neither, perhaps, do I. A couple of mornings this week, I’ve woken up smiling.There were snapshots of Saturday’s cruise floating before me—a child participating in a dancing game, doing his best to remain frozen in place but giggling uncontrollably; a flirtatious young girl from Colombia scolding me for my poor Spanish; a family of eight wearing numbered red shirts, standing in sequence for a photograph; a volunteer, alone on the deck, taking in the view and, I imagine, contemplating the significance of the event; a friend of mine, vibrant despite his ongoing battle against atumor, refusing to pose for a photo I proposed with two women kissing his cheeks out of concern that his new—and first—girlfriend might take offense. These images, followed by a few cups of coffee, make the morning go easier.