Arlie has passed, leaving behind a silence that feels impossably heavy and a void no words can ever mend. At only four years old, she faced neuroblastoma with a bravery far beyond her years, clinging to the small joys of childhood even as hospitals, needles, and treatments became her daily reality.
What began as a minor stomach ache spiraled into unbearable pain. Doctors discovered catastrophic liver damage, and with it, a devastating prognosis: barely a 20% chance of survival. Her tiny body endured more suffering than most adults could bear, and her parents lived every minute fearing it might be her last.
For 22 relentless days, Arlie fought with treatments administered around the clock, never giving up despite the odds stacked against her. She battled through nights filled with alarms, tears, and whispered prayers. Her parents stayed at her bedside, holding her hands, singing her favorite songs, and trying to shield her from a world that had become far too cruel.
And then, quietly, her fight came to an end.
Arlie’s passing is not just the loss of a child—it is the loss of a future, a thousand unspoken dreams, and a light that should have shone far longer. Her memory now lives in the hearts of those who loved her, a reminder of a courage so pure and a life so heartbreakingly short.