Anthony Lanze

I never thought I would be writing something like this—especially not on Christmas Day. Today is supposed to be about family, warmth, and hope, yet here I am asking strangers for help with a heart that feels broken and exhausted. It has taken everything in me to reach this point, but I am praying that someone, somewhere, will see this and help us find a way forward. My name is Anthony Louis Lanze, and this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I lost my mom—the day after my birthday. She was not only my mother, she was my best friend, my support, my home, and my reason to keep going. Losing her felt like losing the ground beneath my feet. I still wake up some days unable to believe she’s gone. But the truth is, my life started falling apart long before that. My father gave up on being a husband, a parent, and a provider. He stopped caring, stopped supporting his family, and walked away from all responsibility. I was very young when I was forced to grow up. Most of my childhood disappeared as I watched everything around me slowly collapse. I stepped up where I shouldn’t have had to, carrying weight that was never meant for a child. After he vanished, he left us buried in debt and chaos. My mom and I worked endlessly to fix what he destroyed—to catch up on bills, to keep our home, to survive. It never got easier. I just learned how to hold the pain inside, keep moving, and never give up—even when it hurt every single day. Then I lost my mom… and shortly after, I lost our home. Everything we fought so hard to hold onto was taken from us. I left with my amazing girlfriend and our beautiful dog with only a few clothes, blankets, pillows, and memories—some loving, some unbearably painful. We sold the only vehicle we had just to afford a hotel room and food for as long as possible. Losing that vehicle also meant losing our ability to work and rebuild. We didn’t have a choice. Now, we are completely stuck. No home. No transportation. No safety net. We’ve tried every form of assistance available. Shelters are full, resources are exhausted, and doors keep closing. I refuse to lose myself in this process. I refuse to steal, hurt others, or become someone with nothing left to care about just to survive. I would rather suffer than lose my humanity. What I am asking for is not a handout—it’s a chance to breathe. Our goal is to raise enough money to purchase a used RV or van, along with registration and insurance, so we can finally have shelter, transportation, and the ability to work again. With that one step, we could rebuild our lives with dignity and stability. I am praying for a moment to start fresh. I will always carry the pain of everything I’ve been through, but I also carry strength. I never want to live in survival mode again. I want a healthy, stable life. I want to work. I want peace. One day, I want to have a child, a family, and a home filled with love instead of fear. I would not be asking if there were any other way. If you can donate—anything at all—it could truly change our lives. If you’re unable to donate, sharing this or saying a prayer would still mean more than you know. I am holding onto faith that better days are ahead, and that with the kindness of good-hearted people, this nightmare can finally end. Thank you for reading. Thank you for caring. And thank you for giving us hope when we need it most. With gratitude, Anthony Louis Lanze