She was born on January 20th, 2004, a very healthy baby, weighing in at 7lb 8oz and 17” long. On her eigth birthday she weighed 48lbs and had reached a height of 3’ 5”. You can argue that is well with-in the range of average for an eight year old girl. You can lay down a pretty good argument that as a second grader she is well above the average in her knowledge of what she is expected to know at this point. You can argue the point of how at such a young age, she is one of the most fashion sensible girls among her friends. You can make argument after argument in favor of this little girls capabilities in every day life as she excels in all aspects of it.
What you cannot argue with is her knowledge and understanding of childhood brain cancer. She can tell you more about the disease than a child should know. She knows how to talk in the medical terms as well as the terms an average person can understand. She can rattle off statistics on survival rates, medical procedures in removing tumors, and the stages of cancer .
She can make you cry for her fate, and smile at her courage. She will have you laughing about her short life one minute, and telling you in the next how she is not afraid to die. She encourages you to ask questions to help you understand how she gets from one day to the next, one moment to another, holding her head up high and revealing her heart, big enough to embrace your sorrow along with her faith.
When I asked her if I could interview her and perhaps share her story with others, she gladly accepted, with the understanding that she wants to share more about what she is thankful for in her life, than what her fate in the near future is. We not only shook on it, we pinky swore. So for the next three hours, I had the pleasure of visiting with this little angel on earth.
Words can never be written to express how I felt after walking away with a notebook full of some of life’s most precious moments as told by one of the youngest inspirations I have ever crossed paths with. Never again will I have the pleasure of conducting such a wonderful heartfelt interview with such a delightful subject.
In a prearranged conclusion to this interview there were two final questions. One I would ask this perfect little angel on earth, the other she would ask me. Who will go first? I suggested paper rock scissors, she would deny me that game for lack of knowledge of its rules and choose instead ‘bubble gum, bubble gum in the dish’ … and I would ask my final questions first.
“If you had one wish that you knew would be granted, what would you wish for?”
With little thought her answer sent tears rolling down my face.
“I would wish that no one else in the world would ever get cancer, and go through all the pain and fears that I have … and that I will be the last one ever, to have to die, because of cancer.”
I stood up and sat down next to my little friend, put my arm around her as she nestled her head against me. She looked up, reached her hand to my cheek to wipe away a tear I shed for her, or maybe it was for me.
She said “my turn” and proceeded to ask the final question for the day. “Will you come back and see me again?”
I stood up, put on my coat, and walked to the door. “You bet I will, we have a story to tell the world.”
“Goodbye boy with the funny name Jett”
“Goodbye amazing Grace”
What you cannot argue with is her knowledge and understanding of childhood brain cancer. She can tell you more about the disease than a child should know. She knows how to talk in the medical terms as well as the terms an average person can understand. She can rattle off statistics on survival rates, medical procedures in removing tumors, and the stages of cancer .
She can make you cry for her fate, and smile at her courage. She will have you laughing about her short life one minute, and telling you in the next how she is not afraid to die. She encourages you to ask questions to help you understand how she gets from one day to the next, one moment to another, holding her head up high and revealing her heart, big enough to embrace your sorrow along with her faith.
When I asked her if I could interview her and perhaps share her story with others, she gladly accepted, with the understanding that she wants to share more about what she is thankful for in her life, than what her fate in the near future is. We not only shook on it, we pinky swore. So for the next three hours, I had the pleasure of visiting with this little angel on earth.
Words can never be written to express how I felt after walking away with a notebook full of some of life’s most precious moments as told by one of the youngest inspirations I have ever crossed paths with. Never again will I have the pleasure of conducting such a wonderful heartfelt interview with such a delightful subject.
In a prearranged conclusion to this interview there were two final questions. One I would ask this perfect little angel on earth, the other she would ask me. Who will go first? I suggested paper rock scissors, she would deny me that game for lack of knowledge of its rules and choose instead ‘bubble gum, bubble gum in the dish’ … and I would ask my final questions first.
“If you had one wish that you knew would be granted, what would you wish for?”
With little thought her answer sent tears rolling down my face.
“I would wish that no one else in the world would ever get cancer, and go through all the pain and fears that I have … and that I will be the last one ever, to have to die, because of cancer.”
I stood up and sat down next to my little friend, put my arm around her as she nestled her head against me. She looked up, reached her hand to my cheek to wipe away a tear I shed for her, or maybe it was for me.
She said “my turn” and proceeded to ask the final question for the day. “Will you come back and see me again?”
I stood up, put on my coat, and walked to the door. “You bet I will, we have a story to tell the world.”
“Goodbye boy with the funny name Jett”
“Goodbye amazing Grace”
