Mya Gilchrist’s story is one of courage, resilience, and love.
It is the story of a little girl who spent more than six years of her childhood enduring chemotherapy, surgeries, and hospital stays—yet somehow, she never lost her light.
Her journey began when she was just 18 months old.
At first, local doctors thought her poor balance was caused by a simple ear infection.
But her parents, Brooke and David, felt something deeper was wrong.
The breaking point came when Brooke watched Mya try to walk toward her.
Mya looked directly at her mother, wanting desperately to come close.
But each time she tried, her body veered sharply to the left.
Brooke’s heart sank.
She knew this wasn’t something that would simply go away.
The family pushed for further answers.
When Mya’s pediatrician wasn’t available, another doctor ordered an MRI.
The results shattered their world.
A large tumor was pressing against their little girl’s brain.
It was cancer.
The family was referred to an experienced neurosurgeon, Dr. Arnold Menezes.
His words were both hopeful and devastating.
“No one else will operate on this, but I will,” he said.
“She has maybe a 10% chance of survival. But if she goes home, she may only have two weeks to live.”
Faced with an impossible choice, Brooke and David agreed to surgery.
They clung to hope that their firstborn could beat the odds.
For 11 hours, their baby girl lay in an operating room as doctors fought to save her life.
The tumor was diagnosed as pilocytic astrocytoma—a rare, slow-growing brain cancer.
But because of its location in the brain stem, it could not be fully removed.
Mya’s treatment plan turned to chemotherapy.
Her doctors designed a 74-week course, and her parents were invited to be part of every decision.
They sat in rooms filled with medical staff, asking questions, listening carefully, holding onto any sense of control they could find.
Through it all, they never gave up hope.
They knew Mya was a fighter.
Life in the hospital became Mya’s childhood.
Nurses and staff went out of their way to give her moments of joy.
On Halloween, she dressed as a piglet while her little sister Leia dressed as a lobster.
Together, they trick-or-treated through hospital hallways, guided by caring nurses who wanted them to feel like any other children.
Mya rode her first tricycle in the hospital.
She learned to ride a bike there.
She sang songs in music therapy, laughed with Child Life specialists, and grew up with a family of doctors and nurses who loved her like their own.
“They treated us like family,” Brooke remembers.
As the years went on, Mya endured more treatment.
She had a second brain surgery, followed by another 74-week round of chemotherapy.
She relapsed at age 5.
She endured another two years of chemo.
And she kept going.
For five years, the cancer stayed quiet.
But at age 12, a routine scan brought more bad news.
The tumor was active again.
Mya began yet another round of chemotherapy.
By the time she was a teenager, the weight of her battle pressed down on her.
After nearly three years of this new treatment, Mya was tired—mentally and physically.
One day, she asked her doctor, Dr. David Dickens, if she could stop.
It was one of the hardest questions a child could ever ask.
And yet, Dr. Dickens listened.
He explained the risks gently.
He reminded Mya that her health—her physical and mental wellbeing—mattered.
He gave her the space to choose.
In the end, Mya agreed to three more weeks of chemotherapy.
It was enough to push her tumor back into stability.
Slowly, her energy returned.
Her smile grew brighter again.
She found herself again.
Mya’s story didn’t end there.
Years later, she was diagnosed with a bone marrow mutation that made her produce too many red blood cells.
This new disease required regular blood draws.
She also suffered hearing loss from the heavy medications and now wears hearing aids.
But through every setback, she chose to keep living fully.
What makes Mya extraordinary is not just her survival, but her heart for others.
During one hospital visit, she overheard a family struggling.
She remembered money left over from a fundraiser her softball team had organized.
Turning to her mom, she said, “Can we give that money away? I think I want to help families like them.”
That was the beginning of the Mya Strong Foundation.
Since then, her foundation has raised thousands of dollars for families of pediatric cancer patients.
It has paid for trips, therapy dogs, and simple joys that make the hardest days a little lighter.
What began with 8 softball teams in 2019 grew to 59 teams in just a few years.
Her kindness created a movement.
Today, Mya is 18 years old.
She is a senior in high school.
She loves choreography and dances with a team.
She dreams of becoming a registered nurse, to care for children the way so many cared for her.
She continues to receive treatment and checkups, but she does not let them define her.
“She’s not just a patient to them,” Brooke says of the hospital staff.
“They know her as a person. They know her laugh, her dreams, her heart. This team saved her life, and we will be forever grateful.”
Mya is a reminder that strength is not the absence of fear or pain.
Strength is showing up every day, even when the road is long.
Strength is choosing kindness in the face of suffering.
Strength is living fully, no matter how uncertain tomorrow may be.
Her story is one of resilience, but also of love—the love of a family who never stopped believing, the love of a medical team who treated her like their own, and the love Mya now gives back to others through her foundation.
Mya is not just surviving.
She is thriving.
She is Mya Strong.
