This scene is being played out in the recreational center of the New York Foundling Hospital, an inpatient facility that cares for children with a range of neurological and physical impairments. It’s the first week of a six-week theater workshop. More than 15 kids, from toddlers to preteens, are participating. Many are in wheelchairs, others are propped up on stretchers, some are on oxygen. The pitcher is a jubilant wheelchair-bound boy named Willie. Hospital nurses, therapists and volunteers are there too. The batter is one of three professional actors with Only Make Believe, a nonprofit theater group that runs workshops for sick and disabled children in 15 hospitals throughout New York City.

Holding the hand of a boy on a stretcher is the orchestrator of this event ‚ Dena Hammerstein, wife of the late Broadway director James Hammerstein. Wearing jeans, sneakers and sweater, this petite British woman with a pixie haircut and welcoming smile blends in easily. Her modest manner doesn’t give away that she has been an actor and playwright and is now an independent theatrical producer. Despite her famous last name, Dena is no stranger to institutional life. During World War II her parents, Jewish refugees, gave her up as an infant to an orphanage. She lived there until she was 11, when she was reunited with her family. At 17 she left home again, this time to pursue acting.

The mother of a grown son and three adult stepchildren, Dena has a naturally nurturing spirit. “I feel comfortable with kids,” she says. In 1992 she started to volunteer in the pediatric unit at the Rusk Institute of Rehabilitation Medicine at New York University Hospital Center. Then in January of 1999 her husband died suddenly at 67. Grief stricken, she wanted to do something in his memory and decided to bring theater to children in hospitals. Only Make Believe first debuted at Rusk in October of that year.

In the past four years the program has brought hope to more than 4,500 children all suffering from traumatic injuries, disorders and chronic illnesses such as HIV, depression, cerebral palsy, cancer, post-traumatic stress disorder and autism. For her dedication Dena has received the United Hospital Fund’s 2003 Humanitarian Award.

“I believe, I believe, I believe in make-believe.” This song begins every workshop. A trunk and movable curtain are placed in the center of the room. Before showtime and during intermission, actors engage the kids in exercises such as shaking their arms. Then the hour-long performance unfolds with the question, “Where are we going to, where are we going to, where are we going today?”

Only Make Believe, named after lyrics Dena’s father-in-law Oscar Hammerstein II wrote for Show Boat, visits each hospital one day a week over a six-week cycle, which repeats twice a year. During the first visit the kids are introduced to the elements of theater: actors, costumes, props and music. Over the next five weeks they play in a world of folk and fairy tales. Here they get attention not because of their medical needs, but as stars of the stage. Inside the trunk, which the program donates to the hospital, are costumes and props (made by volunteers) that transform the kids into ballerinas, brides, firefighters and more.

At first the skits were entirely improvised, but with children this proved challenging. Says Dena, “We became aware very quickly when it worked and when it didn’t.” She wrote original plays with her late program director, Michael Klausner. “As with any theatrical event, Michael and I paced the corridors hoping the lines worked,” says Dena. To keep the kids engaged, group activities are initiated and children are given parts at key moments. New scripts are added to the cycle.

The paid actors all have education-theater backgrounds. When hiring, Dena looks for “talent, personality, adaptability, a sense of humor and generosity of spirit.” Children trust these actors because of their sensitivity, cheery dispositions and reliability. “It isn’t easy,” Dena says. “Some circumstances are, to put it mildly, challenging.”

The actors break from scripted parts and bring in their own personalities when needed. This is a real, live show, says Steve Elm, who has been with the company for three years. Elm assesses how mobile and verbal the kids are and tells the other actors how best to involve them. He recalls one workshop at Incarnation Children’s Center, a residency for children with HIV, where a girl imitated a performance from more than two years earlier. “She was wheelchair bound and hooked up to every machine,” says Elm, “but she remembered what I had done.”

“Thank you kid, take a bow, because you, kid deserve applause right now.” The actors announce this after skits to ensure the children take a moment to relish their accomplishments. Dena remembers when a boy at Lincoln Hospital in the Bronx took his bow just before scooting back to his mom. While uttering his lines, he had depth his eyes wide open and his fingers splayed in front of his face. Later she learned he was selectively mute and didnít speak in social situations. “It was a lovely moment and I had no idea how significant it was,” she says.

Only Make Believe has helped many shy children open up. Alan Shatz, manager of community relations at New York Foundling, recalls when five quiet girls, including two with AIDS and one homeless, decided to write their own skits. “They planned the show, made the costumes and performed,” Shatz says. Lisa Del Guidice, senior recreation therapist at Rusk, says of the program, “It gives kids an opportunity to escape for a little bit, pretend to be different, to use their imagination.” She adds, “They recognize the actors. They get excited, asking when they’re coming, knowing they’ll get the trunk out.”

Actress Hayley Mills, Dena’s longtime friend, joined the board of directors in 2002. “It was emotional to see these kids in a bad way, contraptions on their legs, metal frames on their heads. I could see they were in pain and spending the majority of life in hospitals,” says Mills. She adds that Dena is at ease with them all. “However extreme the disability, she just has the natural instinct to know and do the right thing.” That same year Mills hosted Only Make Believe’s second annual benefit galaóa star-studded event that now raises more than $70,000 each year. She approached the Walt Disney Company for financial support, and DisneyHAND Worldwide Outreach sponsored the benefit. It continues to provide support along with several other institutions, including Credit Suisse First Boston.

At the end of the workshop cycle each child is given a certificate of appreciation and has a picture taken with the actors. It’s clear that kids who were withdrawn on the first day are now eager to be involved. They’ve become friends with each other and with the actors. Cheers and laughter follow, then the six-week run wraps up with a party. “I want every child to take away a memory of being happy,” says Dena