My name is Moishy. I’m 6½ and learn in 2nd grade.
I was born with a rare liver condition, and I have to take tons of yucky medicines and drops every day. They taste really bad, but I know that they’re keeping me alive, so a long time ago, I learned to just swallow them without saying anything.
In the last month, I heard lots of whispers about my “condition dee-tee-ree-or-ating. I don’t know exactly what it means, but I’ve been feeling really sick lately, and I know that my liver isn’t working anymore and that I need to have a liver transplant fast.
Everyone is careful not to talk around me, but I know that without the transplant, I’m going to die.
A liver transplant is the only thing that can keep me alive!
My mommy told me that after my transplant, I’ll come home healthy again! It’s not really again, because I was never healthy to begin with, so now—for the first time—I’m going to be healthy! I’ll finally be strong like all my friends, and no one will laugh at me anymore that I’m fat. I’m not really fat, it’s just that my body—and especially my stomach—are bloated with fluid and medicines.
Mommy also told me that after the transplant, I won’t have to take all those medicines in the morning. I also won’t throw up so much, and I’ll be like everyone else. I’ll be healthy, normal, with energy to run and jump and play. I’ve always dreamed of being healthy, and now, there’s finally a chance that it’s going to come true.
I was thrilled, and I thought that my parents would be thrilled too, which is why I didn’t get why my mommy has been crying so much lately. Every time she looks at me, she gets this sad, wistful look, and her eyes fill with tears. A few times, I woke up at night to feel her sitting on my bed, stroking me. Her tears wet my cheeks.
I didn’t understand why? Why wasn’t Mommy happy?
Last night, I found out why.
I woke up to get a drink, and I heard Mommy on the phone with my grandmother. She said that they’ve already used up all their savings, and that it could be that I won’t be able to have the transplant because they can’t afford it.
And then she said that she can’t stop looking at me, because she’s not sure how much time I have left to live if I don’t have the transplant.
Please! If you’re reading this, I need your help! I don’t want to die. I just started learning Chumash, and I want to have a 7 year old birthday. I have lots of friends and greatest brothers and sisters and grandparents, and the best, best, best parents in the world who love me so much, and they’re all be so sad if I die.
Think for a minute. What if I was your kid? Wouldn’t you do everything to save me? Wouldn’t you want people to help so I could have a transplant, so I could live?
So now think of my parents, and think of my family and friends, and think of me—Moishy. I’m asking you from the bottom of my heart. I really don’t want to die.
Please help my parents pay for my transplant! Even if you can’t give a lot, I’m sure you can give something! Maybe your donation will be the one that makes it possible for me to have the surgery, and…