Photo by Erin Nelson.
Liza Scott, 8, hands a cup of lemonade to Jill Neely for Neely’s 1-year-old daughter Isabella from Liza’s Lemonade Stand at Savage’s Bakery on June 24. Scott is collecting donations from her lemonade stand to help pay for the brain surgery she underwent in June.
When the COVID-19 pandemic hit, 8-year-old Homewood resident Liza Scott began dabbling in the art of lemonade stands so she could save money to buy new toys.
In January, Liza had a grand mal seizure. When the Scotts realized they would need to take a trip to Boston to have surgery, Liza told her mom she could use her lemonade stand to help pay for the expenses.
“I was not ever expecting her to pay for it, of course,” said her mother, Elizabeth Scott, who owns Savage’s Bakery on 18th Street. “I was like ‘OK, that’s fine because you’re not going back to school anytime soon, so you can sell lemonade.’ And that’s how it started.”
Throughout the beginning of the year, those who walked into Savage’s Bakery were greeted by Liza and her lem onade stand. Although a sign on the stand said the lemonade was 25 cents a cup, she sometimes gave cups away for free so everyone could enjoy her lemonade.
Word of Liza’s lemonade stand spread through Homewood and beyond. The online fundraiser for Liza’s expenses has almost reached $400,000, and the Scotts have also received thousands in cash donations.
Elizabeth said she never expected the efforts to go beyond close neighbors, friends or classmates.
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Photos by Erin Nelson.
Liza Scott, 7, pours cups of lemonade for guests at Liza’s Lemonade Stand at Savage’s Bakery on June 24.
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Photos by Erin Nelson.
Liza Scott, center, stands with Jill Neely and Neely’s brother, David Aragon, as they hold Neely’s one year old twins, Isabella, in red, and Caleb, after Scott gave them samples from Liza’s Lemonade Stand.
“In a world where there’s so much hate and unforgiveness, and there’s so many horrific things that happen in the world day to day, it’s God showing the world that there are good people out there,” Elizabeth said. “When there’s a need and you ask specifically that it be provided for, he will provide and will use the right people that you didn’t know you needed.”
‘A traumatic experience’
Liza’s first seizure was in the early morning of January 30. Elizabeth said it was a traumatic experience that makes her anxious when she thinks about it.
“It was a 45-minute seizure, and she was still seizing in the ambulance,” Elizabeth said. “With COVID, they didn’t let the parent ride in the ambulance with the patient. So she was alone and probably scared and doesn’t know what’s going on or why she doesn’t feel good.”
But by the time they got to the hospital, Liza was no longer seizing, and the doctors sent them home.
“As a parent, that leaves you very frustrated because you know seizures don’t just happen like a virus or a cold,” Elizabeth said. “It was kind of like, ‘Well, you’re OK now, so go home.’”
The family felt reluctant, Elizabeth said, but they went home. Within 12 hours, Liza was seizing again.
“It’s scary because every time you have a massive seizure of any kind, it can cause brain damage or other problems,” Elizabeth said. “So we get to the ER, and it’s kind of the same thing: ‘Well, she’ll have to go to the seizure clinic, and it will take a few weeks to get an appointment.’ And you’re like, ‘No. That’s not OK.’”
While in the ER, Elizabeth called her cousin, who is a neurologist. Her cousin determined there were aspects of the seizures both times that were concerning and shared these findings with Liza’s doctor. The doctor then admitted Liza and ran tests, and Elizabeth said she at first thought Liza would be diagnosed with epilepsy.
“We did the MRIs, and the neurologist came in to review them, and Child Life Services came to take Liza to go play games,” Elizabeth said. “Then the neurosurgeon walked in, and my heart just sank. I’m going, ‘That doctor is not supposed to be walking in the door. Why are you here?’”
The doctors found three cerebral malformations in Liza’s brain, all of which were very rare.
Elizabeth has a “fixer” personality. She fixes things every day at Savage’s Bakery: equipment, problems, cakes. She’s part plumber, electrician and handywoman. If something needs fixing at Savage’s, Elizabeth figures out how to fix it.
“So I’m sitting here (in the doctor’s office) going, ‘How do I fix this?’” she said. “I don’t think I allowed myself to let my emotions take over, and that’s not my personality. I tend to be like, OK, we need a strategy, we need a plan.”
Following the advice of a friend, she had a virtual consultation with Boston Children’s Hospital, and together they came up with a game plan.
Bright spots and tough spots
In March, the Scotts traveled to Boston for Liza’s brain surgery. Throughout the process, Elizabeth said Liza was a little scared but wanted to be involved.
“She’s the kid who wants to help the nurse take out the IV,” Elizabeth said. “She’s a kid that wants to be involved in all of the processes. And while she doesn’t have the final decision, it’s important for her to feel like she has a say in her treatment.”
There were a handful of bright spots throughout their stay. One of her nurses was younger and still in school, and Liza told him he was cute and took a liking to him.
“Next thing I know, she’s pushing the nurse’s button on her own accord, and she’s like, ‘Hi, this is Liza, and I would like a grape popsicle. Would you please ask the cutie patootie nurse to bring it to me?’”
Later when nurses asked Liza if she was ready for surgery, she answered, “I was born ready!”
“She’s really got a great sense of humor, and it’s when you’re least expecting her to do something, she does it,” Elizabeth said.
There were tough spots too, though. Elizabeth said patients at Boston Children’s had some of the worst medical issues in the world.
“The first night in the ICU after the first surgery … it had been a long day of surgery for us, and then across the hall from us is this sweet family, and their child is not doing well at all,” she said.
At 1 a.m., Elizabeth said she woke up feeling restless and like something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what. She turned on her light and opened her Bible. She started reading and praying for the child across the hall.
She got up to the window and could see the family huddled around the child. Then she could see his monitor and saw his stats dropping.
“Why does this child have to die, yet my child is going to survive this? She just survived brain surgery, but this child is dying,” she said. “I was on my hands and knees just praying for this child and thanking God for all he did for Liza. Her surgery was perfect.
“It just puts things into perspective. As a parent, you’re not supposed to outlive your children. And when it comes to medical stuff, you don’t have any control. So one child dies, but one child gets to live. Your heart hurts for all of those families. You realize how fortunate you are. While her condition is a whole lot for us and it’s life-changing for us, in many ways, we don’t have to deal with so many problems that go along with some of these heartbreaking issues.”
One thing Elizabeth said she never expected was what it’s like to have a child with a disability. Her uncle has special needs, but his disability is visible, she said. “You can tell God made him different,” she said.
But with Liza, people have stared or have told Liza they were jealous of her stroller wagon. It’s not intentionally rude, Elizabeth said, but there’s a lack of awareness.
“People want to know what’s wrong, but they don’t know how to look at you and ask,” she said. “You’re part of a club now, and it’s not a club any parent wants to be a part of. That’s a hard reality to realize. It’s not like she was born this way and we’ve lived our whole life this way. It’s like all of a sudden, my child’s needs on an airplane are far different from the average child.”
Liza doesn’t have any more surgeries on her schedule, but the doctors will be monitoring Liza for the next five years to make sure none of the malformations come back.
Some days are more difficult than others during Liza’s recovery, but customers visiting Savage’s Bakery still can catch Liza selling 25-cent lemonade behind her pink and yellow stand.
“It’s always been my favorite thing,” Liza said.
To donate to Liza’s fundraiser or to get updates, visit mightycause.com/lemonadeforliza.
