My name is Rosa. I’m a mother of four children, a hardworking woman, and a devout Catholic. I’ve always believed that if you do good, work hard, and have faith, God will carry you through the storms, but this season of my life has tested everything. My heart, my strength, and my hope.

A few weeks ago, my husband was taken by ICE agents as he was walking out of a courthouse. I was there that day. I sat beside him through the entire hearing, a hearing where it turned in our favor. I waited in the parking lot afterward, thinking he would come out and we would go home together, as the judge had promised. I waited for hours until 9 at night, hungry, dizzy, and scared, watching the doors, praying to see his face again, and yet he never came out. I found out the following day that ICE had detained him just steps away from me. They didn’t let me say goodbye. They didn’t let our children hug him one last time. They just took him. And now I’m alone, trying to hold our entire family together with nothing but my job, my faith, and what little strength I have left.

We are not criminals. My husband is in the process of getting a U Visa because we were victims of a violent crime. We followed the law, we cooperated, we trusted the system. And still, they took him from our family like we meant nothing. We’ve hired a lawyer to fight his deportation, but they charged us $5,000 upfront, and I paid it with what little we had in savings. Now that’s gone too. We used to be a two income home but now it’s just me. I work full time. After work, I sell whatever I can, products, small side jobs, anything to bring money in and because I work, I don’t qualify for food stamps or other assistance. I’ve been doing everything I possibly can. I didn’t want to ask anyone for help but I’m out of options. I’m scared. I’m exhausted. I’ve been fighting quietly, doing everything I can to stay afloat for the sake of my children.

We live in a small two bedroom apartment. Rent is $2,000 a month. I do everything I can to cover it, but with bills, groceries, and legal costs piling up, I’m falling behind.

And what breaks me most is that my youngest son is sick. He has been dealing with a lymphatic malformation, a tumor that causes swelling and pain and requires ongoing treatment. Every appointment feels heavier than the last, and I can barely afford the gas to get him there. And there’s something else I haven’t said yet. Three years ago, I lost one of my children. That pain never left me. I still cry when no one is watching. A mother should never have to bury her baby. And now, after all that grief, I’m facing the fear of losing my family again, this time not to death, but to separation, to injustice, to a system that doesn’t see us. I have no family I can rely on. My husband’s mother, my children’s grandmother, has made it clear that she has no intention of helping us. So it really is just me. There’s no backup, no emergency contact, no one sending groceries or helping with rent. I'm alone in this.

So it’s just me. Truly, just me and God. I pray every night for strength. I pray that my husband will come home. I pray that my children can stay warm and fed. And I pray that someone out there will read this and open their heart to us. I’m not asking for luxury. I’m asking for survival. For a roof over our heads. For help with rent, food, medicine, and the legal fight to bring my husband home.

If you can give anything, even $1, it helps. If you can share our story, that helps too. And if you can’t give but can spare a prayer, please pray for us. I never thought I’d be in this position, pleading for help from strangers, but I believe in the kindness of people. If you’ve read this far, thank you. If you can donate, no matter how small, it would make a real difference.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for caring. And thank you, from the deepest part of my heart, for standing with a mother who refuses to give up.

Blue Skies,

Rosa A.