Somewhere in the sterile quiet of British Columbia Children’s Hospital in Vancouver, a mother sits motionless by her daughter’s bedside. Cia Edmonds holds 12-year-old Maya Gebala’s hand тιԍнтly, listening to the relentless beep of machines that keep her little girl alive. The room is filled with the hum of ventilators, the soft drip of IV lines, and the weight of unimaginable fear. Maya, once a vibrant Grade 7 student who loved hockey, art, and protecting her friends, now lies in critical condition after being sH๏τ multiple times in the head and neck during the devastating mᴀss shooting at Tumbler Ridge Secondary School on February 10, 2026.
What makes this tragedy even more heartbreaking is Maya’s heroism. In the chaos of gunfire, the brave girl tried to lock the library door to shield her classmates, putting herself directly in harm’s way. That single act of courage saved lives—but it came at a devastating cost. Airlifted to Vancouver in extreme critical condition, Maya underwent emergency brain surgery to address bleeding and later another urgent procedure for severe fluid buildup (hydrocephalus) pressing on her brain. Doctors have compared her injuries to those of a severe stroke, warning her family that full recovery may be limited, with potential long-term challenges in movement, speech, and daily function.
Yet, amid the darkness, fragile glimmers of hope emerge. Maya’s mother has shared tearful updates: her daughter has opened one eye, responded to voices, moved her hands and legs (stronger on one side), and even begun taking small breaths on her own, reducing ventilator support. Family members describe these as monumental steps, proof that “Maya Bear” is still fighting with everything she has. Her father, David Gebala, speaks of tiny eye flickers and voluntary movements that bring tears of joy in a sea of sorrow. The family clings to these signs, singing to her, telling stories of pride, and reminding her that the world is cheering her on.
The road ahead remains long and uncertain. Specialists monitor swelling in her brain, prepare for possible setbacks, and emphasize that survival is only the beginning—rehabilitation could stretch for months or years. Through it all, Cia Edmonds embodies a mother’s unbreakable love: never leaving the bedside, even as exhaustion sets in, and expressing raw vulnerability in public pleas for prayers and support. “My baby is in there… but how much is left? Time will only tell,” she has written, her words piercing hearts worldwide.
Donations have poured in via GoFundMe, surpᴀssing significant milestones to cover medical costs and allow the family to stay by Maya’s side. The small town of Tumbler Ridge, still reeling from the loss of six lives (including five children), rallies around this young survivor. As candles burn and prayers rise, one question hangs heavy: Will this heroic girl who risked everything for others receive the miracle her family so desperately needs? In a hospital room filled with beeps and whispered hopes, a mother waits, holding on for the day Maya opens both eyes and smiles again.
