Emma, a cheerful girl with curly hair and a pink backpack, sits on a swing, her eyes thoughtful. Max, her best friend, joins her, his hands gripping the swing chains. "Emma, you seemed quiet today. Is something wrong?" "My mom is sick. She says she has something called breast cancer," Emma replies, her voice soft.

Max looks puzzled, his brow furrowed. "What is breast cancer? Is it like a cold? Will your mom get better?" "I don't really know. Mom said it's when some cells in her body aren't behaving like they should, and now she has to go to the hospital a lot," Emma explains, kicking the soft dirt beneath her feet.

"Hi, Emma, Max. I overheard you talking. Do you have questions about cancer? Sometimes, it's easier if we talk together," "I want to help Emma, but I don't understand. Can you tell us more, Ms. Rivera?"

"Imagine your body is made of tiny building blocks called cells. Sometimes, a few of these blocks don't work right, and they make too many copies of themselves. That can make people sick. That's what happens in breast cancer. But doctors and nurses are really good at helping people get better," "So, my mom is sick because her cells are making too many copies?" "Yes, Emma. But there are lots of treatments that can help. And it's not anyone's fault,"

"Does it hurt? Will she be okay?" "She says she feels tired and sometimes loses her hair, but she tells me she’s being brave," "Many people with breast cancer feel tired or lose their hair, but it's just from the medicine helping them. Your mom is very brave, Emma. And it's okay to feel sad or scared, but you're not alone,"

"Emma, I want to help you. Maybe I can make you both a card? Or we can play together after school," "That would be nice. I think Mom would like that, too," "The best thing you can do is be a good friend, listen, and show you care. Even small things can make a big difference," "We’ll always be here for you, Emma,"