Cancer is the number one disease killer of children in the U.S. and Canada. That's scary, and it's sad, and it makes me feel powerless.

As someone totally outside of the medical field, there are many ways by which I cannot help. However, I know everyone can help by donating money to those who are researching treatments for the children who are sick.

I am a person with a complicated relationship with my hair. As a young woman, long blonde hair was part of my identity. The first time I got it cut really short as an adult, my then-fiance and I had one of the biggest, dumbest, and most formative arguments of our now-20 year relationship. In my vanity and naivety I thought my hair was part of what defined me. 

During one of my three pregnancies we had a scare with the fetus and I cried for days. When tests told us she would be fine, and then she was born healthy, I grew my hair out for the first time to donate to Zichron Menachem in Jerusalem. It was a type of thanksgiving offering. When my hair started to gray a few years ago, I decided to grow it out one more time for donation. A year into that growth, Sam Sommer died of cancer. 

I had followed Sam's story through his mom Phyllis' blogs. Phyllis and Michael Sommer were a couple years behind me in rabbinical school, and they are just nice people. We weren't close friends, but we were certainly friendly, and their family's story gripped my heart. Along with thousands of people around the world, I prayed for Sam and I prayed for the people who loved him. Like so many others, I was at the 2013 URJ Biennial when I found out Sam died.

Several months later my good friend Rabbi Rebecca Schorr told me about 36 Rabbis Shave for the Brave, a St. Baldrick's fundraiser she was setting up with Sam's mom in his memory. I had already been growing out my hair for donation and I was honestly relieved to say that with the time I'd already put into growing it, it didn't make sense for me to participate. Whew.

Now we are almost two years later, and another URJ Biennial is coming up. My hair is ready to donate and be made into a wig for someone who needs it. Here's my thought process: I like my hair short. Phyllis is organizing another shave, this time to take place at the Biennial. I am going to the Biennial. You may not have made a donation to childhood cancer research this month if you hadn't seen my post or email. Which all means that the signs are there to tell me pretty clearly: Vered, you should be doing this. It also means that my hair is worth a lot more to others than it is to me. Thankfully, that's not something my husband and I will bother to argue about! 

If I raise $3600, I will let them shave my head at Biennial (after they cut off my braids to donate). If I don't reach my goal, then I will still be donating my hair to a good cause and you will still have done a mitzvah. 

Kids' cancers are different from adult cancers, and childhood cancer research is extremely underfunded. Will you make a donation? Every dollar makes a difference for the thousands of infants, children, teens, and young adults fighting childhood cancers.

Thank you for helping to make a difference in the future of pediatric cancer and the future of families who will face this unimaginable battle.