Chaya Shani
Chaya ShaniCourtesy of the family

A Yellow Girl.

That’s what a little girl with liver disease looks like.

A Gray Girl.

That’s what a little girl looks like when she’s on her deathbed.

When I gaze at my little Chaya Shani, my heart shudders in fear.

I can’t bear to think that we really might lose our little girl.

It’s a year now since Chaya Shani got sick.

It started with standard symptoms and a strange, yellowish pallor.

But fairly soon, it was clear that her liver function was off.

Chaya Shani underwent comprehensive testing, but the results indicated that she was okay and her body would heal.

Yet instead of healing and regaining her natural spark, her condition only worsened.

Chaya Shani was pumped full of medicines, none of which were effective. When her condition suddenly declined sharply, the doctors unanimously concurred that she requires an immediate liver transplant in order to save her life.

Chaya Shani is in critical condition! She’s so weak that no one is even discussing surgery abroad, because the doctors fear that she would never survive the journey. The little strength she has must be conserved to help her survive and recover from the surgery.

Everything happened so fast that there’s no time to digest it or prepare for it.

In A few weeks, I’m sending my husband and daughter—my whole family—into surgery as my husband donates part of his liver to Chaya Shani in a surgery that is presently our only hope of saving her life.

In the meanwhile, I’m with Chaya Shani 24/7, keeping close watch over her as she receives intensive treatment, because it’s dangerous to leave her alone for even a moment.

And my husband? He’s running around from one office to the next in desperate attempt to lower the astronomic costs of the surgery and raise the funds to cover the final cost.

The doctors state that the success rate of this surgery is 90%, but that’s only on condition that we carry out the surgery while Chaya Shani is still strong enough to survive it.

The surgery is in A few weeks, and we’re still missing half of the cost!

We don’t own an apartment, or we would have sold it to cover the surgery. And now we’re in tremendous debt after over a year of frequent hospitalizations and illness that made it impossible for us to work or keep a steady job.

Chaya Shani’s condition is critical, and we’re terrified of the worst of all…

At any minute, she can go into multiple organ failure, and her body systems can start shutting down one after the next.

Chaya Shani’s life is hanging by a thread!

Every hour , every day without surgery spells catastrophe.

I’m writing these words with tears streaming down my cheeks.

She’s our only daughter, our only child.

We can’t bear to lose her.

Please! I’m begging anyone who is reading this to please open your hearts and hands.

For you, it’s a single donation, and whatever you can give is welcome.

But for us, it’s our daughter!

And for Chaya Shani, it’s life itself!

Please donate right now to save Chaya Shani’s life—while you still can!

Click here