Beyond the Court: Sophie Cunningham and Karima Christmas-Kelly Bring Hope, Smiles, and Healing to High-Risk Moms at St. Vincent

The hospital halls were quiet. Machines hummed softly in the background, and conversations carried in gentle tones. But on this day, inside Ascension St. Vincent, something powerful filled the air—hope.

Walking through those doors with wide smiles and open arms were Indiana Fever guard Sophie Cunningham and assistant coach Karima Christmas-Kelly. They weren’t there for tip-offs, jump shots, or box scores. They came for something far more meaningful: to spend time with mothers and mothers-to-be facing some of life’s toughest challenges.

“This is what it’s all about.”

The players joined patients inside the Healing Arts Studio, a therapeutic space designed to bring calm and connection to women navigating high-risk pregnancies. Together, they painted ceramic basketballs, swapped stories, shared hugs, and even shed quiet tears. It wasn’t about basketball—it was about humanity.

“This is what it’s all about,” Cunningham said with a smile that lit up the room. “We’re so blessed to play basketball for a living. But today, we got to spend time with women who are mothers, who are about to be mothers, and just give them a reason to smile and relax a little bit.”

Her words captured the heart of the day. In a space where stress and uncertainty can weigh heavily, Cunningham and Christmas-Kelly brought a reminder: joy and hope still live here.

A Village of Support

Motherhood, especially in difficult medical situations, is never a solo journey. “It takes a village,” Cunningham reflected. And on this day, the village looked like two athletes rolling up their sleeves, listening intently, and laughing freely with women who needed it most.

For Christmas-Kelly, the visit was deeply personal. A leader on the Fever bench, she showed her impact doesn’t stop with play calls or strategy. “Being around other mothers and sharing laughs means everything,” she said softly. “It’s about letting them know that their community is here, whether it’s family, friends, or just people who care.”

Her presence spoke volumes. She wasn’t there to coach or instruct—she was there to listen, encourage, and simply be with the women in front of her.

Small Gestures, Lasting Impact

It wasn’t just Cunningham and Christmas-Kelly who brightened the halls that day. Freddy Fever, the team’s beloved mascot, brought an extra dose of joy, walking around with trays of cookies for staff and patients alike. It was a lighthearted touch, but one that reminded everyone that laughter, even in the hardest moments, is healing.

One mom couldn’t hold back her grin as she painted her ceramic basketball alongside Sophie, joking about who had the better design. Another patient admitted she hadn’t laughed like that in weeks. Those are the moments no scoreboard can measure, but they count all the same.

“Having the Fever here lifts our spirits,” said one hospital staff member. “It’s not just about the snacks or the pictures—it’s the break from the hard work and heavy emotions that we face every day.”

Beyond Basketball

For the Fever organization, this wasn’t just a checkmark in a community outreach calendar. It was a chance to live out their values. Basketball may bring the lights, cameras, and fans, but the true test of character happens when no one is keeping score.

The Healing Arts Studio has long been a place for restoration through creativity. By painting ceramic basketballs together, the group wasn’t just making art—they were creating a shared symbol. A symbol that sport, like art, has the power to connect, to inspire, and to heal.

“Sports give us a platform,” Cunningham explained, “but it’s days like this that show us why that platform matters. If we can brighten just one mom’s day, then it’s worth more than any win.”

Why It Matters

This moment speaks to something larger than a single hospital visit. In a season defined by hard-fought battles on the court, the Fever are proving their greatest victories may come off it.

Fans who watched snippets of the visit online were quick to react. “This shows the heart behind the game,” one comment read. Another said, “Athletes like Sophie and Karima remind us that being a role model isn’t about stats—it’s about compassion.”

The gestures may have seemed small—cookies, conversations, painted basketballs—but to the women in those rooms, they meant everything. They were proof that they weren’t alone. Proof that people cared.

The Bigger Picture

Athletes are often defined by numbers: points, assists, rebounds. But Cunningham and Christmas-Kelly reminded the world that there are no stats for kindness, no metrics for empathy.

At St. Vincent, they created memories that will last long after the paint dries. Memories of laughter in the middle of uncertainty. Of hugs in the middle of fear. Of genuine connection when it was needed most.

In a world that often celebrates highlight reels, this was something different. Something deeper. A reminder that the truest highlights don’t always happen under the arena lights—they happen in quiet hospital rooms, in the middle of real human struggle, when compassion shows up and says, “You’re not alone.”

The Legacy of Giving Back

Community engagement like this is not new for the Fever, but each visit leaves its own unique impact. For Sophie and Karima, it was a chance to live their values in real time. For the moms, it was a reminder of resilience and community. For the staff, it was a breath of fresh air and a morale boost in the middle of demanding days.

“This was about creating memories, offering support, and letting these women know they’re not alone,” Cunningham said. And in that mission, they succeeded.

When the Fever step back onto the court, their focus will return to wins, losses, and playoff hopes. But for one afternoon at St. Vincent, the real victory was already won.