When the doctor gently broke the news that Yanky has Stage 4 cancer and that it was spreading rapidly through his body, we were still young, innocent and blissfully unaware of what this all meant.
We didn’t realize that this translated into a death sentence for our little boy.
We didn’t dream that it meant that we could, very soon, lose our Yanky.
Just two months ago, he celebrated his Chumash party. His face shone radiantly beneath his crown as he clutched his Chumash proudly against his chest.
Little did we dream that, even then, the cancer was growing aggressively inside his small body, silently sucking his life away.
During our last meeting with the doctors, they regretfully informed us that there’s nothing left to do.
We were shocked, speechless. And then the tears came. Torrents of tears.
We pleaded desperately with the doctors and medical activists not to give up on Yanky, because we wouldn’t! We said that we’d try anything, do everything to save his life!
But they just lowered their heads regretfully. “We did everything we could. You’re Orthodox Jews. Pray for a miracle.”
Several days later, the phone rang early in the morning. We recognized the number immediately as the medical activist’s. It was the first seeds of the miracle we awaited…
“There’s an experimental treatment available in a prestigious cancer research institute in Arizona. It’s a very complicated surgery, and it’s expensive, but it might be exactly what Yanky needs.”
We took down all the information, promising we’d do whatever it took to save Yanky’s life.
Only at the end of the conversation did we hear the bottom line. The sum is astronomic, and since the treatment is experimental, it’s not covered by medical insurance. But there’s no price tag on Yanky’s life!
We sprang into action, making plans to fly to Arizona.
Yanky’s condition is grave, and the doctors warned us that we must fly immediately—before it becomes too dangerous for him to travel.
We didn’t dream how hard it would be to raise the money we need to travel abroad and finance the surgery.
Yanky isn’t even 7 yet, and he’s already suffered so much.
Every time I see his smile, my heart wrenches inside as I wonder how much longer I’ll see that smile…
He’s so young, so innocent. He’s never sinned.
He’s too weak to go to cheider, but every morning, he still calls his rebbi and learns with his class on speakerphone because he doesn’t want to miss a day!
Sometimes, when he’s sad and I ask him what’s wrong, he says that he’s waiting for Mashiach because he wants everything to stop hurting…
How can we give up on little Yanky?
Right now, all that’s holding us back from surgery is money.
We’re doing everything we can, borrowing everything we can, but it’s still not enough.
No parent should ever know the excruciating pain of watching your little one fade away…
Help us continue the battle to save Yanky’s life!
Please, please donate now so we can travel abroad and return home with a healthy Yanky!
Hashem sends yeshuos in the blink of an eye!
With your help and Klal Yisrael’s tefillos, we can save Yanky’s life!
