Sep 3, 2026
Danielle was standing in a NICU holding her newborn daughter Hope when a stranger approached her asking, "Are you Angelina's Mom?"
Danielle's quiet response was, "I used to be."
The woman was a pediatric oncologist from a hospital in Westchester. She had never met Angelina. But she knew exactly who she was.
Parents of sick children had been bringing in pictures. Angelina ziplining. Angelina indoor skydiving. Angelina feeding dolphins. Angelina snorkeling with sharks. What do I need to do, they kept asking their doctors, so my child can live like Angelina? And when Angelina died, grief counselors had to be brought in for those parents, because if there was no hope for a kid like her, what hope was there for any of them?
Those parents decided their children wouldn't just survive. They would thrive. Like Angelina.
And then the doctor said something Danielle has never forgotten.
There will be thousands of children who are sick, who will live and be inspired to live, and to live well, who will never know her name.
Angelina was diagnosed with stage 4 neuroblastoma at three and a half years old. The tumor ran from her adrenal gland down into her pelvis, climbed her lymph channel up her stomach, wrapped itself around her aorta, and spread to her bones. On a scale of zero to fifteen, she scored a fourteen. She was given a twenty percent chance of survival.
She fought for seven and a half years. And the whole time, she lived.
She indoor skydived. She ziplined across Las Vegas Boulevard. She snorkeled with exotic fish, swam with sharks, and ziplined down a volcano in Hawaii. She wanted to bungee jump into the Grand Canyon. She served her mother a legal cease-and-desist letter, drafted by a friend's attorney parent, claiming trademark rights over her own facial expressions and catchphrases. She had big plans, better ideas, and absolutely no interest in being told what she could not do.
The clinical trial Angelina participated in changed its criteria because of how she responded. Future treatments for BRCA2-positive neuroblastomas are being developed from her genome sequencing. Sick children across the country were inspired to fight because their parents carried her pictures into hospitals. A grandmother's quiet words to fight traveled to Danielle, who carried them to Angelina, who carried them to children she never knew existed.
The lessons keep traveling. The love keeps traveling.
And most of them will never know her name.
Danielle's podcast, They Were Here: Lessons from Their Lives, is her answer to that truth. You can find it wherever you listen to podcasts.