Seven-year-old Walden is a spark of energy and charm: always ready with a question, a new idea, or an introduction: when he was in Montessori school, he was so friendly and familiar with everyone that other parents started calling him “the Mayor of Montessori.” He didn’t just know all the kids—he knew their parents, too. “He was the only reason I had a social life!” says his mom, Yori, laughing. “Walden would walk right up and say, ‘Mom, have you met so-and-so’s parents?’” He’s never met a stranger, and his extroverted, outgoing nature means he can find a friend anywhere, anytime.
Five-year-old Jove is Walden’s quieter counterpart. More reserved and observant, Jove is happiest curled up with a puzzle, sipping hot cocoa, or keeping his mom company on calm days at the library. He loves to play independently, but when it comes to group settings, he often relies on Walden to break the ice. “He really wants his brother there as an intermediary,” Yori explains. “But he’s getting braver all the time.”
Despite their differences, the boys are inseparable—“attached like glue,” says their mom. But everything changed just after Walden’s fifth birthday. One morning in early 2023, in their Amesbury home, Walden called out from the bathroom: “Mom, my pee is blood.” Yori expected a minor infection—but when she saw the toilet filled with blood, her heart sank.
At Exeter Hospital’s ER, things escalated quickly. Walden’s blood pressure was dangerously high, and a scan revealed a massive tumor filling his abdomen. He was rushed to Boston Children’s Hospital and began chemotherapy that night, even before a definitive diagnosis. The cancer had already spread to his lungs, heart, and vascular system. Every minute mattered.
Walden was diagnosed with Wilms tumor, a rare childhood kidney cancer. “He was standing on the bed, screaming in pain,” Yori recalled. “It was terrifying to watch.” The next few weeks were a blur of ICU stays, fevers, transfusions, medication, and the start of chemotherapy to shrink the tumor enough for surgery. Chemo worked to shrink it, and eventually, Walden underwent a major operation to remove his kidney and as much of the tumor as possible. Then came radiation— and daily anesthesia for two weeks. “He hated the propofol. He was scared - and then angry - every day. And I had to watch it happen for two weeks.”
Still, Walden’s strength amazed his family. “He would walk into the ICU and hop on the bed like nothing was wrong,” Yori said. “He kept showing up, even when everything hurt.”
Behind the scenes, life was unraveling. Yori had to shut down her home chiropractic practice and stop working entirely. The boys’ dad, Kevin, had to scale back hours and was eventually let go once Walden’s treatment ended. Yori and Kevin had already been considering separation; cancer sped up the inevitable.
The stress of cancer, financial instability, and separation took its toll. Yori suspects Jove’s developmental delays—speech and fine motor—were overlooked longer than they should’ve been. “People were doing their best, but we were in survival mode,” she said. Only as Walden’s treatment eased could they begin addressing Jove’s needs.
A fellow Montessori parent, Lucy’s Love Bus’ Director of Development, Stephanie Moran, reached out and introduced Yori to Lucy’s Love Bus. At first, Yori hesitated. “I kept thinking: there are families worse off than we are,” she said. “But everyone kept telling me—take the help. You don’t realize yet what’s coming.”
After Walden’s treatment stabilized, the family joined group programs at the Sajni Center and attended a horseback riding day at Ironstone Farm. That moment changed everything for Jove. “We had tried so many things—art, dance, swim—he didn’t like any of it,” Yori said. “But he got on that horse, and it was like, ‘wow.’ He surprised all of us.”
Thanks to Love Bus funding, Jove began regular therapeutic riding lessons. “In just twenty minutes, he made progress we hadn’t seen through any other methods we tried. It’s a special activity that’s all his own—not something he shares with Walden, and it’s never overwhelming. It’s truly helped his body, his confidence, and his spirit.”
Meanwhile, Walden is now taking piano lessons through Love Bus, and the family continues to feel embraced by the organization. “There’s so much money raised for cancer research, and I’m grateful for that—but Lucy’s Love Bus is what makes a difference in your day. It’s the riding, the music, the swimming—experiences that bring our kids joy and give us moments of peace.”
And for siblings like Jove—often overlooked in the chaos of treatment—it’s transformative. “When your other child finally finds something that’s just for them,” Yori said, “that’s the kind of impact you can feel in your bones.”
Thank you for your generous gifts, which bring comfort, strength, and joy to children like Walden and Jove—and to parents like Yori and Kevin, who feel seen, supported, and never alone.
