May means something different here.
For most people, it’s a month that signals the start of summer. For us, it’s personal. Every single day of ALS Awareness Month brings a reminder of why Let Hope Grow exists in the first place. Not to be loud. Not to be trendy. But to hold space for what this disease takes away, and what it leaves behind.
More Than a Diagnosis, Deeper Than Awareness
ALS doesn’t come gently. It enters lives fast and uninvited, pulling families into a reality most never imagined. Muscles weaken. Voices fade. Futures change. But even in the face of that, there is something stronger: the will to hold on. To adapt. To keep loving in deeper, more present ways.
We’ve seen that strength in too many forms to count. In the hands that learn how to feed, lift, and soothe. Partners who memorize every breath, every signal, every sound. In families who never thought they’d learn how to use medical lifts, plan care schedules, or fight insurance loopholes, but now do all of it without flinching. And somehow, still laugh at dinner.
It’s not all sadness, though. That’s the part people miss. There is beauty here, too. In the small moments. In the deep presence ALS demands. There’s a resilience in this community that doesn’t get headlines. But it’s there. It lives in the quiet ways people refuse to stop being human while navigating something inhumane. And that’s where Let Hope Grow stands: in the messy, raw, unwavering middle of it all.
What Let Hope Grow Believes In
We work with families in real time, in real circumstances. Not after the fact, not only when the spotlight is on. When someone reaches out through our contact form, they’re met with empathy, not a waiting list. We don’t have all the answers, but we answer anyway.
If this is your first time learning about ALS, welcome. Start here. You’ll see who we are and what we fight for. You’ll see how your attention, your voice, and yes, your donation, help give someone a moment of peace in a life that has felt like a storm.
This month, we’ll continue sharing real moments on Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook. You’ll meet families. You’ll learn something new. And hopefully, you’ll feel the quiet pull to act.
That’s what awareness is supposed to do. It’s not a banner or a t-shirt or a trend. It’s a shift. A decision to look closer. To ask better questions. To stop scrolling for a second and care a little longer.
So if something here sticks with you, don’t let it pass. Donate. Share this with someone. Say the acronym out loud. And mean it. This month isn’t about ALS Awareness as a concept. It’s about remembering that behind the acronym is a person. Behind the person is a family. Behind that family is a story that deserves to be seen.