She’s small but mighty, but she reminds the world that hope doesn’t whisper; it roars. Evie is a fearless 3½-year-old who has spent almost half her life fighting neuroblastoma and the storm of symptoms that came with it. She’s the middle child between two brothers and runs the show with a grin. In 2021, she was one of about 800 children in the U.S. given this diagnosis, a number that turns statistics into a child’s everyday reality.
The first signs appeared in October 2020. Freshly two, she suddenly changed. What looked like “terrible twos” was actually a tumor releasing hormones. Her moods swung hard, episodes of screaming, no sleep, and terror that comfort or discipline couldn’t touch. Night after night, she woke inconsolable. Then, on December 13, 2020, after a fall and a strange head tilt, she had her first seizure. That moment started three separate week-long hospital stays, searching for answers bigger than anyone wanted to face.
On January 13, 2021, the answer came. A room full of doctors, a navy notebook at the foot of the bed, and the words no parent should hear: it’s cancer. The questions landed all at once. Would she live? How long? What treatment? The team couldn’t say until they learned precisely what they were dealing with, what stage, what markers, what plan. Not knowing was its own kind of fear.
Things moved fast. Two days later, on January 15, Evie went in for surgery. What was expected to be a three-hour procedure turned into eight. Surgeons placed a port, took tumor biopsies, and drew bone marrow. Soon after, an MIBG scan checked for any spread beyond the adrenal tumor in her abdomen. Life shifted to a new rhythm: appointments, labs, scans, and decisions, while still trying to shield a four-year-old brother and a five-month-old baby at home from the weight of it all. The balancing act felt impossible. If Mom stayed with Evie, she missed the boys. If she stepped out, her heart couldn’t stand it.
Evie’s toddler years were spent in clinics and imaging rooms instead of playgrounds. She clung to her mom, terrified of anyone in scrubs. Grocery runs triggered guilt; saying goodbye triggered panic. But time, kindness, and repetition did their work. Week by week, she began to warm to a handful of doctors, the same people who helped save her life, and laughter slowly returned to those rooms.
Sixteen months after diagnosis, the family found daylight. On August 13, 2021, Evie was declared cancer-free. Since then, she’s been on maintenance care to manage the lingering effects of the disease and its treatments. They paused immunotherapy to see how symptoms changed, kept monthly urine checks and bloodwork, and scheduled scans every few months. A recent limp prompted an MRI of her hips, maybe a tendon issue, maybe a chemo side effect, so her mom steadies her heart and chooses hope again.
Evie was bright, witty, and “spicy” in the best way. She wants to go to school like her big brother. Sometimes her balance wobbles when she’s picked up, a quirk that started after surgery, but you wouldn’t know it watching her bounce on the trampoline. Some days it’s barely there; other days it returns. Even those reminders feel like gifts, proof that she’s here, living out the strong story she’s writing. The past few years have changed how this family moves through life. Their kids, now 5, 3½, and 20 months, taste every good thing they can. Trips aren’t saved for “next week” anymore. The calendar makes room for baseball games, dance classes, go-karts, four-wheelers, and messy carpets that tell the story of a home that chose living over waiting.
Evie’s journey has also lit a fire for childhood cancer awareness and research. Early on, her mom met another mother who had to say goodbye to her child. That woman became a guide through panic and relief, reminding her there is a plan even when nothing makes sense. Now, by sharing Evie’s path, her family hopes to be that steady voice for someone else. Evie is tiny, but her example is huge: courage in a hospital gown, joy in a clinic chair, and a giggle that keeps showing up. She isn’t just a survivor; she’s a teacher, proving that strength can wear pigtails, that fear can be met one day at a time, and that love can remake a life.
