STT. A New Update on Will Roberts as the 14-Year-Old Shares a Message While Facing Radiation Treatment

At fourteen, most boys are learning to grow up.

They worry about school, friends, sports, and other small things that seem so big at that age.

But for Will Roberts of Ralph, Alabama, his childhood was interrupted by something far more devastating.

That’s cancer.

Bone cancer.

A diagnosis doesn’t care how young you are or how kind your heart is.

A diagnosis forces a young boy to learn about courage before he even has a chance to define it.

Will Roberts has battled this disease longer than any child should have to.

And those who understand me all say the same thing.

Will is very brave.

You are strong.

Even when fear is screaming.

Even when the future looks uncertain.

Even if the road ahead holds pain that no child should have to face.

Yesterday, Will spent several hours at UAB’s Kirkland Clinic.

Not for routine inspection.

It’s not for anything simple.

This is to allow for measurements and the creation of a standardized binding mold in preparation for the next stage.

Radiation therapy.

There’s one word that always makes a room feel heavy, no matter how softly it’s spoken.

The doctors have discovered a few more new points.

New tumors.

These are reminders that this illness doesn’t stop just because you’re tired.

Will’s mother, Brittney, learned to receive medical information with a strength she never asked for.

She spoke slowly but truthfully about what was to come.

Radiation therapists estimate Will will need five treatments.

Five times, the target was new tumors in the right femur and tibia.

The other five times also focused on the left clavicle and humerus.

Those bones should have allowed a boy to run, jump, and live freely.

Now it has to endure even more than what its bones were originally made to endure.

For Brittney, hearing these details was both familiar and terrifying.

Because when your child has cancer, the numbers are no longer abstract.

They become very personal.

They became sleepless nights.

Prayers were whispered in the darkness as the house fell silent.

Will listened too.

I listened to every word.

I understand more than people think.

And I still find ways to be grateful.

Last night, Will recorded a message.

Not full of anger.

Not full of resentment.

And it was full of sincerity.

She talked about gratitude.

She talked about fear.

She spoke as someone who understood how fragile life is, yet still clung tightly to hope.

Everyone who watched the video said it was impossible not to be moved.

Because courage isn’t always loud.

Sometimes, courage is a boy admitting he’s afraid.

And I still chose to move forward.

Will fought bone cancer like a true warrior.

But a warrior is not someone who doesn’t feel pain.

I’m tired.

I endured the pain.

There are times when the burdens seem overwhelming to me.

And then she still stood up.

Still going to the next appointment.

The next scan.

The next course of treatment.

There’s one more thing we don’t know.

There is something very humble about witnessing a child teaching adults about strength.

Will doesn’t pretend that this journey is easy.

I’m not pretending that radiation therapy is something I’m looking forward to.

But I faced it with quiet courage.

Faith became my refuge.

It’s not because it dispels fear.

Because it gives me something to hold onto when fear arises.

When asked what people could do for Will, the answer was simple.

Please pray for her.

Please mention her name in your prayers.

After watching the video, many people were invited to share a Bible verse.

One sentence helped them in their darkest moment.

A sentence that reminded them they were not alone.

A single sentence can provide strength when courage seems fragile.

Will is really looking forward to that.

I would appreciate it if I knew that others had overcome their fears.

That her fight has meaning that extends beyond the hospital walls.

That strangers are carrying you in their hearts.

Fourteen years old.

Too young to understand why this happened.

But old enough to understand that life is incredibly precious.

Will Roberts is not defined by illness.

She is defined by her resilience.

Because of honesty.

Because they dared to speak out about their fears.

Because gratitude exists even when things are most difficult.

The road ahead will not be easy.

But Will wasn’t going alone.

And somewhere, many prayers are silently being offered for you.