faithhopeandlovejesus.org BLOG

On July 17, 2002, my family, friends, and I heard the worst news ever that impacted all of our lives especially mine. I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia at the age of three. Being so young, I did not know what obstacles were coming my way, all I knew was that I would be extremely sick. I felt so nauseated and my whole body used to hurt all the time. I remember the day I was diagnosed like it was yesterday. The nurses carried me into a big room with big, bright lights looking down on me. They put me on this hard and very cold, metal table. They were all holding me down while one nurse was trying to find a vein. I was screaming in pain while she stuck me in the arm, wrist, hand and even foot. They were trying to calm me down by saying “I’m so sorry sweetie, one more pinch, we are almost over.” Their comforting words did not help at all. I kept screaming and crying for my mom but she could not do anything. She helplessly cried in the corner wishing she could hold her daughter’s hand.

I stayed in the hospital for about ten weeks, but me being so young it felt like years. It was so dreadful for me to stay in a hospital bed all day long and only get up to use the restroom or walk to the playroom. The big machine that was connected to me pumped massive loads of medicine in my body that every night I wetted the bed. I was so embarrassed but my mother comforted me and said it was not my fault, that it was cancer’s fault. Also, I never ate hospital food because it was so nasty. The breakfast food was so dry and the dinner food never had any seasoning so it was bland. The cookers definitely did not know how to cook like a Cajun. It got to the point that the nurses and my parents had to bribe me to eat. If I ate my food, I was able to go to the playroom. You think the playroom was the best activity in the hospital environment for a sick child but it wasn’t. I had to wear that itchy gown and that smothering mask. I barely was able to talk to my hospital friends because that mask took up my whole face.

After those long weeks, I was finally stable enough to leave the hospital and go home. I thought I was finally free from that hospital setting and would not have to see it again. Well, my three-year-old mouth spoke too soon. Two weeks later I had to go back for chemotherapy. Going for treatments were not as bad as staying in the hospital, but I still hated it. I was able to play an old Nintendo game with my friend while waiting to get called to the back. My emotions changed drastically from being happy to being scared. I remember that when the nurse was about to access my port in my chest, I made myself cry so I would concentrate on crying and not the pain of the needle going into my skin.

Weeks, months, years passed and I could finally say that I was cancer-free on January 15, 2005. it was a long, stressful journey but I finally beat cancer’s butt! It might be weird saying this, but I was blessed to have cancer and go through those obstacles. It made me a stronger person and overcome any obstacles or fears that came in my way. A few years after I became cancer-free, I was invited to go to a cancer camp in Mobile, Alabama. I was seven at the time and I was really scared to go to another state without my parents for a week. When I arrived at camp, the directors, campers, and counselors welcomed me with hellos and warm hugs. Camp gave off a positive vibe the minute I stepped off the bus. I met so many people that went through the same journey as me. Camp helped me come out of my shell and be myself for once. I am truly happy that I went to camp because I met three of my very close friends there. They all live in Louisiana and we all get to hang out throughout the year besides at camp. I am glad that I made friends with them because we all went through cancer and we know each other better than our normal friends.

Having Leukemia was a huge blessing to me. That horrible disease made me an inspiration to many people. It also inspired me to become a tough person and to not care about what people think of me when they see my physical appearance. Cancer came with many obstacles and fears but I am glad I got to overcome them and share my experience with other people. I am also happy that I made some very special friends along this journey. Cancer might be a horrible disease but, in my vocabulary, it was a blessing.

~~Halle Theall

There is one thing I truly love in life. That one thing is looking at pretty things. You may think that sounds stupid or that there is a better way to word it, but that is truly what it is. One of my favorite things to do is watch sunsets and sunrises. I enjoy how different they all are, how something in their varying colors and shapes and clouds makes my heart flutter.

The same is for snow and water. With snow you may only see white but it is truly so much more than that. At night the snow sparkles. You may see only white, pink, blue, black and purple. I see so many different colors that it makes me want to stare at it for hours on end. Water is a different story.

There is a bridge by my house that overlooks the river and sometimes I will walk to it, lean over the railing and gaze into the water. I find it truly beautiful. How the sun reflects off of it and at some points I can see the rocks underneath and others I can only see the dark abyss. Sometimes I’ll take a hike into the forest by my house and trip over rocks and roots because I am too busy staring at the peaceful landscape and the water.

I live in a remote area so there isn’t much noise except for the calming wildlife. Sometimes I’ll even see a deer and just take a seat and watch them. How they interact with each other and how they are very aware of their surroundings. One time I swear a deer and I stared at each other for a few minutes and it began to come near me but then ran off. What I love looking at more than scenery is art.

I like staring at all kinds of art, paintings, drawings, and photographs. But what I enjoy more than just looking at art is watching people, especially people who do art themselves. I can’t sit and look at a piece of art and find its true meaning., but I can sit and stare and find more and more things about it that make me feel so amazed. I love watching people create art, especially people who thoroughly enjoy it. I’ll watch how they start off with a blank sheet and create something so beautiful.

Something so creative that I could only dream to make, but I’m okay with that. if I was able to do it, I don’t think I’d love it as much as I do now. I like watching people who do it smile to themselves when they feel content and happy with what they’ve made. I like watching them concentrate and get so deep into what they’re doing that they don’t even know what’s going on around them. I like watching them cringe when they mess up and then change it or fix it and sigh peacefully and happily as it turns out well.

Maybe it’s weird, how much I like watching other people, but I truly enjoy watching people do what they love and enjoy. I like watching people do things that make them happy.

~~Maya Shapiro

Survivorship is a word that elicits many emotions for me. after being diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma when I was 16 years old, I was confident I would beat this monster and not let it define who I am as an individual. Taking the reins, I charged into battle, never for one second allowing myself to think I wouldn’t come out victorious. I rang the bell after 6 months of intense treatment and a plethora of surgeries and hospitalizations. I did it! I survived! Now what?

Survivorship is such a strong word. When I think about someone being a survivor, I think about them walking away from a traumatic event, unscathed. Sure, they are shaken up, but eventually they move on. While I finished treatment, my body fought against me. I was trapped in an endless cycle of my mind telling me just to get up and move, but my body defying these orders. The never-ending fatigue, the memory loss known as “chemo brain”, the physical pain that blankets me on a daily basis are all stark reminders that I have survived one of the toughest battles, yet must continue to fight to find my new normal. Despite these continuous reminders of harsh treatments I’ve endured, I have remained an active member of my high school cheer team, so I continue to rally others.

One year after ringing that glorious bell, I relapsed. But, I was supposed to be a survivor. How did I come to find myself facing this beast again? Though I was now undergoing relapse treatment, I went on to graduate high school with honors. Feeling on top of the world, I was confident as I headed into my stem cell transplant. With the end goal of survivorship at the forefront of my mind, I enrolled in college full time, and even made the college cheer team! My oncology team recommended that I postpone school until after transplant, but I knew that would never be an option for me.

Cancer had already stolen so much from me – I was not going to let it prevent me from achieving my dreams. Though transplant was incredibly challenging, I survived, just as I always have, and ended my first semester as a college freshman with straight A’s. During this short time since my diagnosis, my little brother was diagnosed with Astrocytoma brain cancer, and my mom was continuing her fight against Melanoma and Thyroid cancer. We linked arms tightly together, knowing we were not only bonded by blood, but by cancer as well.

I choose to define survivorship as someone who has been given a crummy deck of cards, but refuses to fold. Being a survivor isn’t about coming out of a trauma unscathed. It’s about taking the reins and hanging on for dear life. It’s about accepting that we cannot control what is thrown onto our path, but we can control how we choose to face it. It’s about continuing to set goals and achieve them, regardless of what cards you are dealt. I am a survivor.

~ Baylie Hankins

I was brought up in a Christian home with both my parents being actively involved in the church as either an elder and/or a deacon. My first Bible was a board-book Bible depicting the life of Jesus. Sunday school was the norm for all of my family members and small group Bible study was on a weekly basis. That is a lot of time to spend reading the word of God. But I have found that you can read the same Bible passage over and over and have a different perspective each time.

I have learned that once I allow the Holy Spirit to show me the meaning of God’s word, my mind becomes more enlightened; I get more out of the Bible and greater understanding on how it applies to my life. God is amazing in how He has sent the Holy Spirit to help me see things I otherwise would not have seen. There are so many verses to pull from as points of reference; however, the following are on my most meaningful list:

o Even the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees Him nor knows Him. You know Him, for He dwells with you and will be with you. ~John 14:17

o The Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, He will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you. ~John 14:26

When I was in high school I was spiritually born again. The words of the Bible were no longer just words on a page. Before I read the word of God, I ask that He sends the Holy Spirit to speak to me through my readings. I now can feel things I have never experience before and it is all due to the Holy Spirit opening the eyes of my heart. When God gives you spiritual ears and spiritual eyes, you feel encouragement and love. Your mind and heart has been enlightened. As a freshman in college I am faced with new pressures and problems. I remind myself that I cannot face these things alone and need His help and guidance. Allowing God to speak directly to me through His written word has helped me overcome many difficult situations.

An example of this is when I was a junior in high school. it was right around that time when there was a lot of pressure on me to decide what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I spent a lot of time in prayer, talking to God about this huge life decision I had to make. I have a huge passion for art and I knew I wanted a career that incorporated art. The only problem was that I knew I did not want to just be an artist.

It was a very stressful time in my life but with God’s help I made my decision. I remember researching different careers that incorporated art and I stumbled upon art therapy. It was at that moment that I felt something in my gut and I immediately went into prayer asking God “Is this it? Do you want me to pursue art therapy?” I had an odd yet comforting feeling in my gut and my heart that answered my questions. To this day it is the most powerful moment that I have ever had between me and God. It is also a moment in my life that reassures me that I cannot face big life decisions on my own.

~~Jenna M. Caroff

Cancer needs to be cured. Enough is enough. Everyone is touched by this ageless disease at some point in their life, whether it is their parent, sibling, child, friend, or self. For me, it was when I was three-years-old, and my cancer stole almost all of my vision, permanently. Curing cancer does not seem to be social issue in the limelight anymore. Instead it has become a “back burner” issue. I believe that curing this disease can be the public issue that unites all of our country, thus achieving the greatest national accomplishment since landing a human on the moon. At the current age of seventeen, my contribution to curing cancer is one of awareness, and my abbreviated story is below.

When I was three, my parents noticed that I was having trouble with my vision. It seemed like I needed glasses, so it was off to the eye doctor, who instead sent me directly to the hospital for an MRI. By the end of the day, I was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor and declared legally blind. Consequently, my childhood was not been an easy one, and I struggled with my faith to understand why I was the one chosen to endure such hardship. My years were filled with dozens of MRIs (and still counting), thousands of needle sticks, tons of medications, endless hours of appointments and treatments, gallons of tears (and chemotherapy), one or two school pictures without hair, and quite a few life experiences and medical procedures that my parents told me most adults would never likely have to endure. I had to overcome my fear of needles, and lie still, while nurses poked needles into my chest over and over, week after week. My parents watched my chin quiver and my hands clench as we all tried to be brave. How were they supposed to explain to me as a child why I had to experience this suffering?

I am told to think about my cancer as a chronic illness, like diabetes or colitis. Unfortunately, my “chronic illness” took most of my vision before I even started kindergarten. I can read braille, but cannot read the chalkboard at school, even from the front row. And even though I can never get a driver’s license, I am ranked third out of 310 students in my senior high school class. I bet most people would rather lose an arm than their sight, but that is no the case for me. To me, my lack of sight is definitely an inconvenience, but not something that prevents me from making a positive impact on the world around me.

I refuse to let cancer and blindness limit my potential. My past is what has made me who I am today, and I would not have the same perspective on life if not for those challenges. Nonetheless, my path is one I hope no other child has to follow, because one more child diagnosed with cancer is one too many. I pray that our leaders have the courage and resolve to make curing cancer their number one priority.

~~Ellie DeLucia

Suddenly I stopped on a page when I was flipping through my history textbook. Transfixed by a photo of concentration camp survivors recently, rescued, I studied the image closely. They were all weak from malnourishment and you could see their ribs. Many had cuts and scars from forced labor or abuse. All their heads were shaved and they wore the same uniform to strip them of their identity. Everything was taken from them, and they were dehumanized. I could not help but think that this photo is printed in potentially thousands of copies of history books to represent what concentration camp survivors looked like.

To think of what a survivor is, an important questions begs to be answered: “What did they survive? Clues like the uniforms and bulging bones give context to what they endured to now be considered a survivor. People can survive all kings of things. Like cancer survivors, painted as sadly thin, protruding veins, bald heads, surgery scars, missing body parts, weak, and the same hospital gown uniform or ribbon with respective color(s). Do we tend to view cancer survivors similarly to how we view was survivors; both suffering unimaginable pain and terror, often with visual and mental differences or indications of a survivor?

Survivorship does not necessarily depict a weak, helpless, or dehumanized person who had just enough strength to survive. However, cancer is like fighting a war. A one-man war within yourself, where you are your only ally, and the enemy is within. Physically, your body and organs fail. Mentally, you must keep yourself going strong, but can’t help crying when visitors leave, both leaving scars. But surviving this war is more than the image of the scars, the loss of hair, and in some cases, the loss of body parts that cause you to stick out like a sore thumb, for better or for worse. Gradually, you regain weight and strength (in many more ways than you may initially realize), your natural skin color returns, your hair grows out, and you’re free from the restraints of hospital gowns.

Survivorship is more than the helpless image people like to create to associate with that you endured. Surviving is walking across the stage at my high school graduation eight days after my last round of chemotherapy. Surviving is starting college three months after my last round of chemo and two weeks after my last surgery. It’s playing around with hats, scarves, and awkward in-between-length hairstyles. It’s pushing myself to make the dean’s during my first semester of college (of which i am still on to this day). It’s walking into my biannual oncologist checkup and the nurses not recognizing me at first. It’s my oncologist hugging me and nearly breaking out in tears seeing the difference from a weak, scared, and frail girl to a strong and healthy woman. It’s knowing that if I have the strength to beat cancer, I have the strength to do anything, if I try.

Survivorship, to me, is breaking the stigma that having cancer is the end. While it is still such a traumatic event that affects many people and their families, it it still possible to achieve your dreams despite navigating such a difficult obstacle. Survivors are just normal people who were dealt some difficult cards, and we play them the best we can, just like anyone else.

~~Brooklyn Hughes

My experience battling cancer has driven me to help others.  I wish to be selfless as those who have helped me, and I want to help others in similar situations, by sharing my story and aiding in fundraising efforts.  I believe a major influence on my wish to help others, has been others helping me.  It is easy to reciprocate the kindness that many have shown me.

Fundraisers for me have had great community involvement, and has helped my family immensely with many of the financial stressors a chronic illness causes.  Also, I have received cards from all over America, and father, wishing me health and comfort.  These simple acts of kindness have provided reassurance to know how many people care and are praying for me.  These acts of kindness influence me to help others, to take the goodwill of many and pay it forward.

Fortunately, I have been able to begin paying it forward, participating in many fundraising efforts.  I have been a featured speaker on KDKA for the Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh, the Make-A-Wish “Light Up a Child’s Life” campaign, and “Cure Rock” to financially support the oncology unit at Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh.  In addition, I have participated in American Cancer Society events, being a relay for life team member, a Survivor speaker, and the master of opening ceremonies.  I hope my efforts can contribute and ultimately continue research to find a cure for cancer, so others don’t have to suffer through the same battle.  I have also shared my story at Ministry event, with the sole purpose of helping and inspiring those who hear my story.

I have heard from friends, fellow church-goers, and complete strangers how inspiring I am, and I hope to continue this trend.  The most significant example of this is a teacher, who was diagnosed with cancer himself.  He explained to me how I inspired him to keep fighting, and how he viewed me as his “hero”.  This teacher, presented me with the “Student Who Inspires” award at the NHS induction ceremony. This single instance continues to inspire me to share my story, as the power my testimony holds truly affects other people’s lives.

Also, I have completed community service unrelated to my diagnosis.  I have volunteered countless hours at church, participated in events to combat world hunger, helped at local and non-local mission outreach trips, volunteered in a chairperson leadership role in the local church conference, and many others.  I see this community service as a way to give back to the community, and repay a mere portion of all the help I have received.

My battle with cancer has impacted me to make a positive difference on the world around me.  My goal is to be selfless like all those who have helped me, and I want to continue helping others in similar situations, by sharing my story and aiding in fundraising efforts.

~~Brady Hunker

No matter what age you are or where you’re from, you understand hunger.  That rumbling in your belly, the weakness in your stance, it is all an indication of need.  Need so primitive that even children can understand it yet so potent that it can fell the strongest of adults.  It hurts, the emptiness, the hollow calling, begging to be filled.  Things begin to dull, to lose shape.  But once that need is met, balance is restored.  The earth begins to reform and fill with color, and music sings its sweet refrain with a renewed vigor.

This hunger is the same with sickness and disease, but instead of a hollowness of the belly, it is a hollowness of the soul.  It is easy to lose hope when day after day is an uphill climb and you don’t have enough energy to go on.  It is easy to lose hope when your parents’ smiles are a little too sad and you don’t recognize yourself in the mirror anymore.  It is easy to lose hope when your days are spent in hospital beds and your nights pass with unease because you’re not sure you’ll ever wake up again.  It is so easy to give in to the desperate hunger.  But in the end, it takes and takes more than the sickness ever does.  Until the day comes when you are freed from the sickness, when life returns to its full color, and the fear you’ve had for so long is released.

It is strange, to feel steady after walking through the shadow of death.  All you can think is, is this real?  But you know it has to be, because for the first time you don’t feel that hunger that ached and twisted for years inside of you.  All that remains of it is a wisp, a memory, soon overwhelmed by the fascinations of a life filled with color, music, and laughter.

But that memory remains.  That hunger, which governed your life in sickness, now fuels you in health.  You are no longer controlled by it, but now you have forged it into a flame.  A flame that inspires you to demand more of yourself, of your life.  You see the possibilities where before there were only dead ends.  You seek more knowledge, more experiences, more love, more life.

Why should that hunger be confined to a cage of desperation?  It shouldn’t.  That hunger, that survivor’s flame, allows you to be bold.  To take life and live it daringly, wasting no time, because you know time is something that is never guaranteed.

To be a survivor is to know life’s fragility as well as its promises.

~~Danielle Hallworth

I have led a blessed life with a variety of achievements, including sports victories, leadership honors, even a 4-H Poultry and Bike Rodeo Championship!  I play both the saxophone, electric and upright bass, run on the Varsity Cross Country and Track teams, and have been Co-Captain of the Wrestling team for the last two years.  I am active in my school’s Spanish Club and mentor younger students through the SHIFT and Renaissance groups.

I have had the opportunity to attend mission trips and am active in my church youth group as well as claiming membership in the National Honor Society.  Just this year, I received the honor of being voted an Illinois State Scholar.  The achievement I am most proud of, however, is not any certificate or trophy I received.  I am most proud of my determination and hard work in a wide variety of activities.

My dad shares my diverse interests and I look up to him for a multitude of reasons.  I’ve been proud of the many things we share in common, both in preference (we both love taffy much to my mom’s dismay), experience (creating music), as well as the DNA we share.  Neither of us were prepared to also share the life of cancer survivor.

I had never experienced real illness, let alone surgery, let alone a frightening diagnosis like cancer.  The first procedure to remove the tumor was uneventful and light-hearted with the surgeon narrating each step so I could learn the medical terminology (he knew of my intention to become a doctor).  The second surgery was altogether different.  After receiving the diagnosis on the phone, my parents scheduled surgery for that week.  I barely had time to register the potential consequences or worry about what might (or what might not) come next.  Recovery took a while, but I made steady progress.

I have always had an affinity for science and math and have challenged myself with honors courses at school.  I participated in a diverse set of extra-curricular activities and now count those experiences among my best.  I hope to one day contribute to research, development, and healing in the service to others as an oncologist, recognizing both my history as a patient and ability to connect to other patients through our shared experiences.  I firmly believe that my background, determination, and willingness to do the hard work necessary will help me succeed as I approach college life and beyond.

Thank you for the opportunity to apply for this scholarship.

~~Carson Schaefer

The career I am pursuing is Classical Vocal Performance, which I hope will lead me to a career as an opera singer.  I have been working towards this career since I was 11 years old, when I first started taking voice lessons.  I had to drive an hour each way to Franconia, New Hampshire in order to work with a teacher who offered what I needed to pursue this lifestyle.  Since then, I have had to set aside at least an hour each day to practice, on top of my already rigorous academic schedule.

I have very specific goals for my vocal performance career.  Picking the highest level of education I could was the first step to becoming a successful classical singer, which I have been able to do by attending The New England Conservatory of Music in Boston, Massachusetts.  I have been placed with a teacher who has already helped further the skills and technique with my voice, and together we are working to ensure that I will have a long career after leaving his studio.  In the more immediate future for my education, I wish to get the most out of my education at NEC and, hopefully, attend Juilliard for my Master’s degree.

After my schooling, I hope to travel to Europe to get experience performing on stages around the world and hopefully gain some notoriety so that I can land title roles in professional opera productions.  Not only is this important for my personal goals, but I find it critical to change the future of opera and fine arts overall.  Music is a dying art in schools and communities, especially in the US.  But through my own experience with music growing up, I was able to feel accomplishment and it was my way to heal and develop after many of the challenges that I faced in my childhood.

I would specifically like to help change the negative stereotypes and assumptions surrounding opera, since many people in the younger generations don’t find it interesting or relatable like some shows on Broadway (most operas take place in the 17th and 18th centuries, so obviously the younger generations can’t relate to most of the themes).  I want to work with young composers to help change opera to keep younger generations engaged to feel the love for it that so many before felt.  Keeping music part of the next generation is crucial, and what better way to keep it a large part of life than to show people where a passion for music can take you and more importantly how it can heal you.

~~Emma Strange