Our sweet Emma is five years old, and her middle name is Hope — a name that has never meant more to us than it does right now. She loves gymnastics — front handsprings, the balance beam, flipping on the bars before most kids can even reach them. She is athletic, fearless, funny, and an open book with her feelings: when Emma is happy, the whole room knows it.

This spring, that bright, active little girl slowly began to change. It started with trouble sleeping and was treated as sleep apnea, but over a few months came slurred speech, trouble swallowing, weakness on her left side, and problems with her balance. In early August, after her mom, Jamie, noticed the weakness wasn't going away, our family got her to Children's Minnesota right away.

There, we received the news no family is ever ready for. Emma has a diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma (DIPG), a rare and aggressive brain tumor that grows in the brainstem. Because of where it sits — woven into the part of the brain that controls breathing, movement, and so much more — it cannot be removed with surgery. There is currently no cure for DIPG. Only about 200 to 300 children in the entire country are diagnosed with this each year. It is not inherited, it is not anyone's fault, and there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent it.

Emma has already been through so much: a biopsy, surgery to place a shunt to relieve pressure on her brain, and repeated sedated MRIs.

Ahead of her is about six weeks of radiation, five days a week. Because she is so young and has to stay perfectly still, she will be sedated for each and every treatment. We want to be honest about what this radiation is — and what it isn't. It is not a cure, and it will not make the tumor go away for good. Its purpose is to shrink the tumor for a time, ease Emma's symptoms, and give her the best quality of life and the most time we possibly can.

Alongside radiation, the family is searching for clinical trials that offer hope — treatment that may mean traveling far from home. To be there for Emma through all of this, her mom, Jamie, is leaving her job, and her dad, Matthew, is needing to take a lot of time off so one of them can always be at her side. They are also parents to Emma's big sister, Olivia (8), and her little brother, Ian (2), who need their world to feel as steady as possible through this.

On top of the emotional weight, this family is facing a full year with little to no income while caring for a critically ill child and traveling for treatment and trials. That's where we're hoping you'll come in. We are raising $200,000 to help cover roughly a year of lost income for both parents, travel and lodging for radiation and clinical trials, medical expenses, childcare for Olivia and Ian, and whatever Emma and her family need in the months ahead.

Every dollar allows Jamie and Matthew do the one thing that matters most right now — be fully present with Emma — without the crushing weight of how the bills get paid. If you can give, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. If you can't, please share Emma's story, and please hold this family in your thoughts and prayers.

Emma — our girl named Hope — is deeply, deeply loved, and your kindness helps us wrap her and her family in that love when they need it most.

With gratitude,

The Popp Family (via maternal Aunt Jenna Pagano)