My name is Jordanna, and this is my daughter Mackenzie — the little blonde with the brightest smile and the fiercest spirit.
At just three and a half months old, Mackenzie was diagnosed with retinoblastoma, a rare and frightening form of pediatric cancer that attacks the eyes. No parent can ever be prepared for news like that. In an instant, our world shifted into one of hospital rooms, tests, treatments, and prayers.
Since that day, Mackenzie has endured seven rounds of chemotherapy, countless appointments, and more challenges than most people face in a lifetime. And yet, through it all, she has shown a strength that humbles me every single day. Today, she is nearly one year cancer-free — and we are profoundly grateful for the exceptional care she has received at UCSF. The doctors, nurses, and staff there have not only treated her illness but also surrounded our family with compassion and hope.
But today, something even more extraordinary happened.
As we waited for Mackenzie’s surgery, we met a beautiful little girl named Akira. She is just two years old and, like Mackenzie, is bravely fighting retinoblastoma. Two little warriors, both carrying scars far too heavy for their small years.
And yet — when they saw each other, none of that mattered.
They met in pre-op, and within moments, something magical unfolded. There was no hesitation, no shyness, no fear. They held hands. They hugged. They laughed and played as if they had known each other all their lives. Watching them was like witnessing the purest form of friendship — a bond formed not out of shared struggle, but out of unfiltered innocence and love.
Akira’s grandmother, whom she lovingly calls “Mama,” said it best: “This is pure innocence.”
And it truly was.
Two little girls, both touched by trauma and hardship, chose joy in each other’s presence. In that sterile hospital environment, filled with tension and worry, they created their own safe haven. Their laughter cut through the beeping machines and whispered anxieties, reminding us all that even in the hardest moments, beauty and light can bloom.
As a mother, I cannot put into words what it meant to see Mackenzie find this connection. After months of watching her fight through treatments, hospital stays, and painful procedures, I watched her simply be a child again — holding hands with a new friend, her eyes filled with delight.
I don’t know what the future holds for either of them, but I do know this: today was the beginning of something beautiful. We hope this is not just a fleeting moment, but the start of a lifelong friendship between two extraordinary girls who already understand more about courage, resilience, and love than most adults ever will.
To everyone reading this, I hope their story warms your heart the way it warmed ours. Mackenzie and Akira reminded me today that innocence, friendship, and love are stronger than fear. And sometimes, the greatest healing doesn’t come from medicine alone — it comes from the simple touch of another hand, holding yours, saying without words: You are not alone.
Sincerely,
Jordanna
