My dear friend Ana has ovarian cancer, and it is terminal. She was diagnosed two years ago, but sadly, the cancer was found late. Ana was committed from the beginning, telling her friends and loved ones that she would beat it.  

She fought through rounds of chemotherapy and the terrible sickness that depleted her. She twice finished a cycle with bell-ringing joy and hope, but each celebration was cut short. She’d feel sick, then sicker. She’d be admitted to the hospital to be told that the cancer was stronger than before and spreading.    

In these suffocatingly dark times, Ana would find the strength to start over. She would announce to all of us that she was still fighting. Her deep love for her son, siblings, parents and friends and her devotion to God carried her forward in her fight.  

On those good days after chemo, Ana would dive joyfully into life with her son and their dog, King. Her energy seemed to grow back with her hair. My favourite Ana re-emerged in selfies of her stubbled head accompanied by her unique ‘uhuuuuuuu!’ text. 

Then suddenly, everything cratered. Ana got sick and was sent back to the hospital. Her doctor revealed that the cancer was spreading to other organs, and the chemo wasn’t working as it should. He recommended focussing on her ‘quality of life’ for the time she has left. Affording a quality of life without a pay cheque is impossible for Ana, who has, as she says, ’worked and worked my whole life.'

And that’s why we ask for your help for our Ana, who is too sick to work.  

I met Ana two decades ago when she came to Toronto, Canada. She was a single mom in her twenties with her 8-year-old son, Breno. I have vivid memories of those early meetings. I recall her solitary figure walking down the centre of the long street to my house in the heat of summer and on the coldest winter mornings. Her gregarious personality always shone through her broken English as we tried to communicate. I was touched by her laughter that seemed to come from her core and hug everyone in the room. Our friendship was truly sealed when we discovered our shared love of dogs.

Early in our relationship, Ana said she came to Canada for one reason. She wanted a better life for her son, so she left her parents and family in Rio de Janeiro and headed for Toronto’s Little Portugal. 

Ana quickly learned English on the job. She worked as a nanny, house cleaner, office tower cleaner, restaurant server, and those are just the ones I know about. Let’s just say she worked long hours at multiple jobs, at least six days a week. Her son attended a good school. She and her Brazilian girlfriends shared child care, employment and fun. They all worked exhaustingly hard and helped each other to survive in one of Canada’s most expensive cities.  

Ana’s young son, Breno, pitched in at every opportunity. He wanted so badly to earn money. I remember him coming to help us with yard work. We paid him a grown-up wage. And that little guy worked his heart out on every weekend job we offered. In his words, ’I want to help my mom.’   

Ana had so much pressure for so many years. Rent. Food. Bus fare. Clothes and school supplies for a growing son. She often talked about stretching her dollars to ‘pay so many bills.’ And she’d send what money she could to her parents, who cared for her two very sick brothers in Brazil. She was exhausted most of the time.  

As I think back, there’s one story that truly captures my dear friend, Ana Paula Lopes. A few years after arriving in Canada, she told me she had met a young woman from Brazil who was broke. She didn’t have a cent. Ana reached into her purse and gave her all of her money. Just like that. I knew Ana barely had enough for rent and food back then. She could see the stunned reaction flash across my face and quickly reminded me that this woman needed the money more than she did. It was all very matter-of-fact. Ana believed it was the right thing to do, so she did it. Quintessential Ana.

  

I remember one of Ana’s happiest milestones was being able to finally afford a lovely little apartment that was safe for Breno and herself. Nicely furnished with bought and donated pieces. Even though she worked such long hours, her home was always impeccably clean, warm and welcoming. I recall visiting her the first time. Ana’s smile was proud and radiant. Her laugh embraced us on arrival as it always did. She had finally made a good home with her son in Canada in a neighbourhood of treasured Brazilian friends near her beloved church.  

As the years went by, Ana continued to work very hard. She dreamed of one day buying a little house. Breno finished high school and trained to work in the construction industry. Like his mother, he often works two jobs for a better future. Sadly, Ana’s dream of a little house never happened. Cancer did.  

Now…and trust me, she hates to ask…Ana needs our help.  

Ana needs money for rent, food and necessities. Your donation will allow Breno, who works nights and is her caregiver through the day, to devote more time to his beloved mother without stressing about money. They also hope to reunite Ana with her elderly parents and siblings in Brazil to spend this critical time with her. Ana is so concerned about her son. Breno worries about his mom. They deeply yearn to have the support and love of their entire family beside them through the difficult months ahead.

Please help Ana. No amount is too small.