Home 5 Real-Life Stories 5 Meet 2026 Ambassador Stephen: A 15-Year-Old Who Shows Courage on and off the Ice

Meet 2026 Ambassador Stephen: A 15-Year-Old Who Shows Courage on and off the Ice

January 6, 2026
5 min read
A young boy in a wheelchair smiles, wearing a cap and a T-shirt with a shark. Beside him, text reads: "Meet 2026 Ambassador Stephen" A 14-Year-Old Who Shows Courage on and off the Ice."

Fifteen-year-old Stephen has always been an old soul. A high school freshman, he is the kind of kid who can talk about hockey stats one minute and cancer research the next. Stephen’s journey over the past two plus years has tested his strength in unimaginable ways, but his resilience has inspired everyone around him.

In October 2023, Stephen and his family received the diagnosis no one wants to hear — Ewing sarcoma, a rare and aggressive bone cancer. What started as a few concerning MRI results quickly became a whirlwind of hospital visits, consultations, and tough decisions.

A young boy in a hospital gown sits on a recliner assembling LEGO on a tray in the first image. In the second, he's in a hospital bed, smiling, wrapped in a red blanket with an IV drip. The setting is calm and warm.

At first, Stephen didn’t know that his family was taking him to Rush University Medical Center’s cancer center in Chicago. When he realized what was happening, he was scared and upset — but that fear soon transformed into determination. His mom, Jennifer, recalls how impressed his orthopedic oncologist was when Stephen began asking thoughtful, mature questions about his diagnosis and treatment. Once the word “cancer” was official, Stephen dove into research, wanting to understand every detail of what was ahead.

Stephen underwent 13 rounds of intense chemotherapy, each one requiring five-day hospital stays. Some rounds led to blood transfusions and additional hospitalizations due to low blood counts and infections. One of the biggest decisions he faced came during an appointment where his doctor began explaining the leg-salvage surgery process.

A child in a hospital room sits in a chair, smiling warmly. They wear a beanie and are wrapped in a colorful sports team blanket, conveying cheerfulness and comfort.

Stephen listened for a moment, then confidently raised his hand and said, “Excuse me, but I would like to discuss the amputation.”

The doctor was stunned but promised to take the request to the tumor board. Before the appointment ended, Stephen’s mom asked the doctor what he would do if Stephen were his own child. After thinking it over, the doctor called the next day to say that he would recommend amputation—and the tumor board agreed that it would give Stephen the best chance. In true Stephen fashion, he met the moment with clarity and courage. His family now celebrates the anniversary of his amputation each year.

Two photos of a young athlete in a bright yellow and green uniform in a sled hockey match on ice, showcasing focus and determination.

Today, Stephen is in remission, returning to the rhythms of teenage life. He continues follow-up scans every three months and his days are filled with the activities he loves most — sled hockey and sports broadcasting for his high school.

Hockey has always been close to Stephen’s heart. His favorite team is the Chicago Blackhawks, and he looks up to Brody Roybal, a U.S. sled hockey Paralympian and two-time gold medalist. Stephen dreams of playing sled hockey professionally one day and becoming a professional hockey broadcaster — combining his passion for the sport with his gift for communication.

A smiling child in a wheelchair, flanked by two individuals. One wears a red hockey jersey, the other a black suit. They are in a carpeted hallway.

At home, Stephen shares a close bond with his younger brother Patrick. Like most siblings, they still tease and “scheme” together, often teaming up to convince their parents to take them out to eat or on an adventure. But the challenges of the past two years have also deepened their friendship. They spend more time playing games, riding around the neighborhood, and just enjoying being brothers.

A collage of two boys enjoying events: on the left at a racetrack with headphones, center indoors in casual wear, and right at a sunny football game.

Stephen also shares a special connection with his grandmother, especially when they cook together — one of his favorite activities outside of sports. Family time for the Foltin’s often means road trips, board games, camping, and trying new restaurants. They even celebrate “Ice Cream for Breakfast Day” every February — a fun family tradition that reminds them to enjoy life’s little moments.

A smiling family of four stands in a stadium with a large screen and empty seating behind them. They're dressed warmly, suggesting a cool day.

Stephen’s relationship with the St. Baldrick’s Foundation began long before his diagnosis. When he was just three years old, he attended a St. Baldrick’s head-shaving event with his friend Gabe. He wasn’t planning to participate — until he saw all the people shaving their heads for kids with cancer.

He told his dad, Geoff, “I want to give my money to the kids and shave my head, too.”

Now, having faced cancer himself, the mission of St. Baldrick’s holds even deeper meaning.

Stephen says, “Once you become involved with St. Baldrick’s, you’ll always be a part of it. The money you raise and time you commit to kids with cancer means more than you could ever know.”

Four people on stage celebrate at a St. Baldrick's Foundation event, holding trophies and plaques. The mood is joyful and triumphant.

To the donors and researchers who make childhood cancer research possible, Stephen’s message is simple but powerful:

“Don’t stop until there’s a cure. I’m still here because of you.”

Whether he’s on the ice, in the classroom, or at a St. Baldrick’s event, Stephen radiates strength, humor, and hope. His favorite TV shows — Parks and Recreation and Ted Lasso — reflect his personality perfectly: kind-hearted, resilient, and determined to find joy, even when life throws a challenge his way.

A boy with a prosthetic leg practices walking using parallel bars, smiles in a blue suit indoors, and is joyful in a red outfit at an event.

Stephen’s story is one of perseverance, community, and courage — proof that heroes don’t always wear capes. Sometimes, they wear hockey jerseys and keep skating forward, one push at a time.

Be part of the hope that fuels brighter futures for kids like Stephen.

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