Help Us Fight for Time, Family and One Last Chance at Life

In January 2020, our family’s world changed forever. I was diagnosed with prostate cancer. On August 19th, I underwent surgery to remove my prostate. By November, I began hormone therapy. In January 2021, I started eleven weeks of daily radiation — five days a week at 8 AM — fighting with everything I had for my life and for my family.

Through it all, my wife and I leaned on our faith, our love, and our family — six children and 14 beautiful grandkids. It’s been an emotional rollercoaster. We’ve held on tightly through every scan, every treatment, every prayer.

Recently, we received news no family wants to hear. My cancer has aggressively spread to my bones. Doctors tell us I may have two years left — possibly less — if things continue without change.

But there is a glimmer of hope.

I may qualify for a promising clinical trial. If not here in the U.S., there is an approved treatment in the UK already showing great results for people like me. The catch? It’s not covered by insurance — and the cost, including travel, could reach $300,000. Our other urgent goal is to pay off our home ($217,000) so that my wife, daughter, and grandkids living with us won’t lose their home when I’m gone.

Together, that’s a total need of $517,000.

It’s overwhelming — but if just 2,000 people gave $260, this burden could be lifted.

For over 20 years, I’ve been a truck driver. Today, I drive for Convoy of Hope, a Christian non-profit that delivers food and supplies to churches, food banks, and disaster-stricken communities across the U.S. and around the world. We feed nearly 700,000 children every day in 66 countries. I’m proud of the work we do — it’s a mission. But now I’m asking for help for my own family’s mission: more time together, stability for my wife and grandkids, and one last shot at life.

Please consider helping us. If you can’t give, would you please share this with someone who might?

We believe in miracles. We believe in community. We’re trusting God and walking this road — one day at a time.

With gratitude,

Ray Mauro