09/01/2026
Tomorrow begins a month that, for most of my life, meant absolutely nothing to me.
SEPTEMBER.
Childhood Cancer Awareness Month.
I saw the gold ribbons. I saw the posts. I knew children got cancer, but I never really stopped to understand it. Because you never think it will be your child. You never think it will be your family sitting in a room listening to a doctor say words you can barely comprehend because the only word your mind can hear is “cancer”. You never think you will learn the names of chemotherapy drugs instead of new toys. You never think you will know what a port is, what blood counts need to be, what scans are looking for, or how quickly a fever can turn into a medical emergency. You never imagine watching a tiny child endure things that would bring most adults to their knees.
Until childhood cancer has a name.
A face.
A laugh.
A favorite toy.
A little hand you have held.
And suddenly, that gold ribbon means everything.
For us, childhood cancer has a name.
Maverick.
And now I understand why September matters.
Childhood cancer needs to be recognized because these aren't just statistics. They are babies, toddlers, children and teenagers who should be worrying about scraped knees, cartoons, school, birthday parties and what they want to be when they grow up. Their parents should be planning vacations and first days of school, not treatment schedules. Their grandparents should be spoiling them, not begging God to let them take their place. Their childhood should not include chemotherapy, surgeries, radiation, ports, scans, transfusions, hospital stays and words no child should ever have to know.
And yet, for far too many families, it does.
Before cancer touched my family, I could scroll past a childhood cancer post and feel sad. Now I know there is an entire world behind those posts. There is a mama lying awake at 3 a.m. listening to her child breathe. There is a dad trying to hold his family together while he is terrified too. There are siblings whose lives change overnight. There are grandparents praying prayers they never imagined they would have to pray. And there are families carrying an unimaginable grief because childhood cancer took what should never have been taken.
That is why we need to talk about childhood cancer. Not because we want sympathy. Not because we want people to feel sorry for us. But because awareness matters. Research matters. Funding matters. Treatments that are safer and more effective matter. And every single child fighting deserves to know that the rest of us are willing to fight for them, too.
So this September, when you see a gold ribbon, please don't just scroll past it.
Stop for a second.
Say the child's name.
Share their story.
Pray for them.
Support their families.
Donate to childhood cancer research if you are able.
Wear gold.
Ask questions.
Learn about it.
Talk about it.
Because childhood cancer may not be part of your world today, & I pray with everything in me that it never is, but these children need people to care before it becomes personal.
I wish I had understood that sooner.
This September, I will wear gold differently.
I will see every gold ribbon differently.
Because now, when I look at that ribbon, I don't just see childhood cancer.
I see Maverick.
I see his courage.
I see his fight.
I see every child fighting beside him.
And I see every reason in the world why we cannot look away.
September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month.
Go gold. Speak their names. Share their stories. Pray without ceasing. Fight for better treatments. Fight for more research. Fight for every childhood cancer family.
Because kids deserve to grow up.
And until every child gets that chance, gold deserves to be seen.
🎗️ Team Mighty Mav 🎗️
No child should have to fight cancer. But every child who does should have an army standing behind them.
