Josh is 7-years-old. He's running around on the floor of Rec Hall, throwing small, soft, squishy balls at tired-looking 20-somethings. He's giggling, darting all around. He stops at some point to hug his dancer, who looks weary but smiles the brightest when she sees Josh.

Josh is probably the cutest bald boy on earth to a lot of people.

Josh is one of the 2,000 kids benefiting from this crazy, colorful and exhausting event.

Then there is Katie. Katie is missing one front tooth. She is tossing a big beach ball all around. Her mom and dad are watching with a whole lot of pride, as their tiny 5-year-old runs around with the energy of a kid without cancer.

Katie is a little girl who benefits from The Four Diamonds Fund, which allots more than 92 percent of the proceeds from the Interfraternity Council/Panhellenic Dance Marathon and other fundraising efforts straight to patients and their families.

Julie is someone pretty interesting, too. She's a senior at Penn State. She is dancing in Thon and, it turns out, someone else danced for her 20 years ago when she was a Thon child.

That's the interesting thing about Thon. For 31 years, Penn State students have been keeping kids like Josh and Katie alive, figuratively and literally.

All of these human stories are tangled together to create hope for children with cancer -- like the 6-year-old who can hold a huge smile, even though his little body is going through something so rough.

All of these little threads of life that tie together a tradition, which brings so much excitement and fuels so many emotions, is what Thon is all about.

Watching the kids run in circles around sleep-deprived students can be one of the most touching events a person can witness.

It's the story of how millions of dollars are collected to help these little, squirt-gun-wielding 5-year-olds get through a disease that terrorizes so many.

And these little kids have reality set in much sooner than most kids. They come to Thon to take a break from the reality of their sicknesses to play and have tons of fun. The 48 hours that those involved with Thon spend awake makes the reality that cancer won't win even clearer.

Thanks to everyone who puts together Thon. The little ones squirting people and smiling made reality seem a little further away this weekend.