She’s 16 years old and in the prime of her life. Ava Wease has dreams as big as her heart — playing the viola in her school’s advanced orchestra, spiking volleyballs across the net, driving with the thrill of her new license, and laughing with her classmates at North Augusta High School. She longs for the life most teenagers take for granted. But for Ava, every dream is shadowed by a battle she never asked to fight.

It began three years ago, when her mother, Charlina, noticed unusual red spots on Ava’s legs and feet. Her stomach was bloated. Concern turned to alarm when bloodwork revealed her white cell count had skyrocketed to over 300,000. On January 19, 2023, the official diagnosis came: B-Cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. At just 13, Ava was high-risk.

Chemotherapy began immediately. Even in the hospital, Ava brought her viola, determined to keep her music alive. She came close to remission, but then came the relapse. Sorrow followed, but so did a new chance — her younger sister, Allyssa, donated her bone marrow. Allyssa even cut her own hair to make a wig for Ava, standing as both sibling and hero. With her sister’s gift, Ava fought her way back, playing her viola once more and reclaiming pieces of her teenage life.

But cancer is relentless. At her two-year checkup on July 31, 2025, doctors found cancerous cells in her marrow again. The family turned to experts at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, where Ava was recommended for CAR T-cell immunotherapy. This cutting-edge treatment takes healthy cells from her body, genetically engineers them to fight cancer, and infuses them back in.

There is hope — but also fear. “We are very worried,” said her father, Max. “Our options are dwindling.” Her mother added softly, “This will be Ava’s third treatment. It gives her a low prognosis of survival of 40 to 50 percent.”

Once again, Ava’s school year will be spent at home. Once again, her life will be measured not in proms or pep rallies, but in appointments and infusions. Yet she keeps smiling. She holds her viola close. She refuses to let cancer steal her joy.

“She’s full of dreams and aspirations,” Charlina said. Dreams of a future filled with music, of taking her rosin and bow and filling a room with sound. For Ava, that future is worth every fight, every treatment, every prayer.

This family needs support — love, prayers, encouragement — as they face another uphill battle. Ava’s courage inspires everyone around her, but she cannot do it alone.

So let’s lift her up. Let’s believe with her. And let’s remember that beyond the charts and statistics, there is a 16-year-old girl with a viola in her hands, a smile on her face, and a heart full of dreams.

Because if music is the language of hope, Ava is determined to keep playing her song.