Nine years ago on a May evening, my parents sat myself and my three year old brother at the time, Felipe, down at the couch while my youngest brother, who at the time was only sixteen months old, was at the park with our grandmother. My parents very cautiously explained that my youngest brother, Donnie Monaco, had cancer. To an eight year old, that word is synonymous with death. I legitimately believed my baby brother would die. Luckily, and through the grace of God as well as the willpower of a sixteen month old spirit, Donnie made a full recovery, and is now a healthy, albeit annoying, ten year old boy. I'm shaving my head to honor him this year. I hope to raise at the minimum 1500 dollars to go to childhood cancer research as so that no family will have to go through the worry and fear that mine had gone through.
