How a dying promise turned into ‘the house that Niagara built’

Last month, Thorold resident Ann Mantini-Celima received a Queen’s Platinum Jubilee Award for her work with cancer support organization Niagara Wellspring.

The not-for-profit is an affiliate of Wellspring Toronto and offers emotional and physical support programs to anyone living with cancer, whether it’s a patient or a caregiver.

Niagara Wellspring was founded by Mantini-Celima in 2001, as a promise to her late brother.

“I hope that my story will mentor other people or inspire them,” says Mantini-Celima, in an interview with ThoroldToday. “If you believe in it, you can do anything. I hope I set an example for that.”

Mantini-Celima’s story begins back in 1998 when her brother, Aldo, who was 30 at the time, was diagnosed with cancer.

“The day his son was born he was diagnosed with stage four malignant melanoma, which started under his fingernail,” Mantini-Celima says. “I was not dealing with it emotionally very well. The fear of losing someone can be crippling.”

Looking for help, Mantini-Celima called the Canadian Cancer Society, which set up an appointment for her at Toronto Wellspring.

“Having the volunteer listen to me and having her acknowledge that it was okay to feel all of this — that was a safe space for me,” says Mantini-Celima. “In a family unit, the walls of protection go up and nobody wants to talk about it because you all want to be positive. To have this place to talk, it really helped me so much.”

By being able to talk about her own fears, Mantini-Celima grew even closer with her brother.

“What I learned to do was talk about my feelings with my brother.” she says. “I said: ‘I’m afraid of losing you, I’m afraid you’re going to die,’ and he said: ‘Thank you,’ because he wasn’t able to talk about that with anybody.”

Aldo was so impressed with Wellspring Toronto that he wanted to launch a similar support program in Niagara.

“He said: ‘If I survive this, this is what I want to do,’” Mantini-Celima says. “It kind of gave him a focus and a sense of purpose. A year from his diagnosis he passed away and he made me promise to continue with his efforts.”

Mantini-Celima signed an affiliate agreement with Wellspring Toronto and launched her own Niagara chapter in 2001.

“We raised our first $75,000 and we opened up a little unit in Thorold on Schmon Parkway,” she says. “We were there for 18 years. We grew very grassroots. We had our centre, we hired one staff person, we had 35 volunteers, and we had five programs.”

Quickly, the organization started growing in size.

“What starts as a promise then becomes a responsibility,” Mantini-Celima says. “I was thrown into it and had to learn the not-for-profit sector. That’s where the stress comes in. Because now you have responsibility to the donors that fund you, that support you, that believe in what you do and the people that use the centre.” 

While Mantini-Celima never intended to work at the centre herself, she soon found it was difficult to step away and eventually she became the organization’s executive director.

She juggles her duties at Niagara Wellspring with a professional music career. Together with a few of her siblings, she formed a band called "The Mantini Sisters."

“If I didn’t have my music, I think it would have been worse,” she says. “Everybody needs that outlet and my music is my therapy. That’s beneficial to have had that opportunity. That gave me balance.”

After outgrowing its Thorold location, Niagara Wellspring was able to build a centre of its own in Fonthill in 2019, using contributions from the local community. 

The facility sports an exercise room, a wig room, therapy rooms, and spaces for people affected by cancer to come together.

“This is more than we could have ever imagined,” says Mantini-Celima. “We nicknamed this ‘the house that Niagara built.’ This is what they’ve given the community and the people impacted by cancer. You feel that energy from day one. I just want that to continue.”

While Mantini-Celima has more than made her mark with Niagara Wellspring, she considers the organization her brother’s legacy.

“I wanted people to know who he was,” she says. “For me, his smile and who he was, was really that warmth. He would have been here just greeting everybody. He wouldn’t have cared about the building, he would have cared about the services inside. That’s what mattered to him and that’s what matters most to me.”