“Unconditional Love”

Amiyah and Carmen’s story

St. Vincent’s Villa provides comprehensive residential treatment for children 5–14 whose behavioral and emotional needs haven’t been met in a community-based setting. Rehabilitative facility dog Carmen, whose training by Paws4People and placement at St. Vincent’s Villa was funded by the Ed Block Foundation, is a key part of our trauma-informed model of care.

Throughout Amiyah’s young life, the only constant has been loss. She has shuttled between the great-grandmother she calls Grumzie and her sometimes-homeless mother. Though her mother’s life is more stable now, Amiyah’s behavioral and emotional challenges require that she live with Grumzie while her siblings live with her mother.

Separation from her mother and siblings is one of many losses in Amiyah’s young life. Her beloved grandfather died when she was little. She no longer has contact with her father. Then there was Max, the family Great Pyrenees, who “would jump on top of me in bed because he was scared of thunder. But one day he went out to lie down in the sun and never came back up.”

Amiyah is in her second stay at St. Vincent’s Villa and Villa Maria School. Because she is so young, it is the only place where she can receive residential treatment. Her response to emotional stress is often to run away, an action the staff calls “bolting.” She spends time with Carmen inside almost every day, but if she doesn’t bolt, she can choose to spend her time with Carmen outdoors.

“I’m getting better, mostly because of Carmen,” Amiyah said. “She’s my family, my bodyguard, my peer helper. I love Carmen. She’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my life!”

Between interventions with children in crisis and her regular rounds, Carmen rests in the office of administrator Ezra Buchdahl. Then Amiyah arrives. Carmen knows Amiyah is a love sponge, and soon the two are rolling on the floor, sharing kisses. Amiyah laughs, and jumps up to show off Carmen’s many talents. Amiyah holds up a dog treat she baked with the help of her mentor, and spells S-I-T. Carmen sits. Amiyah laughs again—“Carmen can spell!”

For Ezra, being Carmen’s primary handler has deepened his connection to the children in St. Vincent’s care and helped him better to understand the traumas that shape their lives. “Moving to a trauma-informed care model has helped us to see that sometimes the kids who act out the most are most in need,” he explained. “What Carmen offers is unconditional love. Carmen loves Amiyah regardless of her behavior. She works with many children here, but it’s a very special relationship these two share.”

“Love Heals”

Rose and Wardi’s story

The Esperanza Center offers hope and compassion to thousands of immigrants trying to navigate life in this country. The Esperanza Health Center offers free medical and dental services to immigrants in the metropolitan Baltimore area who do not qualify for health insurance.

Rose Richardson’s journey to the Esperanza Health Center in 2017 was a long and difficult one. She’d come to the U.S. from Jamaica in 2011, and began to notice serious health problems while she was pregnant with her daughter, Taliah, in 2014. For years, she tried to get treatment for worsening symptoms as an undocumented single mother with no health insurance.

Finally, a friend suggested she look into Catholic Charities, and she found the Esperanza Center. Sitting with her during that first visit, Community Health Coordinator Wardi Donnelly looked into Rose’s eyes and said, “You’re pretty sick, you know that?”

The stoic Rose bristled at first. “I thought, ‘I’m not sick bad, because I can still walk,’” she remembered. “But they took me on. All the other people I went to, they sent me around and around. Nobody wanted to help because I didn’t have insurance.”

              The Esperanza team sent her for an ultrasound and a biopsy that identified stage 4 uterine cancer which had spread to her lungs. The center partners with providers like Johns Hopkins, which provided Rose with no-cost treatment. Through it all, Rose maintained her fighting spirit: “I keep saying, this cancer is not going to kill me. I’m going to kill it.”

              Wardi came to admire that attitude, and the bond between them grew. “You want to do anything you can to help her because she’s helping herself,” she said. “I love Rose. One time I saw she had missed a GYN appointment. I asked her, ‘What happened?’ She didn’t have the money for the bus. We have donated money we can use to help patients like her. If we didn’t, it would come out of my pocket—but I would never tell Rose it came from me. How many times have I gone to Starbucks, and for a fighter like Rose not to have $4 for the bus to make a doctor’s appointment?”

              Rose believes Esperanza Center saved her life, giving more her time to watch her little girl grow. “My lungs are getting better every day. I give thanks to God, and Miss Wardi, and all the others that have helped. Miss Wardi is very precious to me and my daughter.”

“Loving Each Moment Together”

Sean and Andy’s story

At age 13, Sean Ball was one of the first people to come to Gallagher Services when it opened in 1977. Today we support adults through community living, a medical day program, and supported employment and involvement in the larger community —all tailored to help each individual we serve to explore and achieve their own vision of a fulfilling life.

Sean Ball and Andy Marcantoni have a special way of talking. Since Sean is mostly nonverbal, he responds to his longtime friend with big nods, thumbs-ups, fist bumps and emphatic “yeahs!”

They first met when Andy was in high school at Loyola Blakefield, volunteering at Gallagher Services. Sean was a 20-year-old resident. As time went on, Andy got married, had three kids, and built a happy life. He’s also president of his family’s company, F&M Contracting.

               Sean, who was intellectually disabled at birth, is the gourmet cook of his Gallagher-supported household, and makes sure the apartment is well maintained. The meticulousness he applies to everything from his clothing to his cooking is balanced by a fun-loving nature and a passion for the Orioles and Ravens.

              About seven years ago, on a contracting job at Gallagher, Andy spotted Sean. He asked if Sean remembered him, and the two picked up where they had left off. Trips for ice cream—Sean’s favorite dessert, which he talks about by pretending to lick a scoop—became excursions with the whole Marcantoni family. Andy and Sean’s birthdays are a week apart, so they celebrate together every year. Towson’s Fourth of July Parade is another annual tradition.

Sean also works part-time at Andy’s company.

“We all look forward to the days when we’re going to get Sean,” Andy said. “When he’s with us, the cares of the day just drop away. You can be in the moment. We just have fun.”

But Sean also works hard, and his meticulousness serves him well. “When we’re at work, and I say hi, he lets me know, ‘I’ve got to get back to work, can’t talk now,’” Andy explained. “And he points out anything that’s wrong in our building. But I see the smile on his face when he sees me. He wears his heart on his sleeve.

“My relationship with Sean is as fulfilling and satisfying as any other friendship I have,” Andy said. “Even if he does like to cheat at bowling!”

“Transformed by Love”

Tiffany and Kris’ story

Anna’s House serves women and families experiencing homelessness coupled with domestic violence, unemployment, chronic addiction or mental health issues. Our staff works with each client to help her take charge of their life and recognize their own capabilities and self-worth, providing emergency shelter, transitional and permanent supportive housing to help move towards self-sufficiency.

“Three years ago I hit rock bottom,” Tiffany Corey recalled while balancing her cheerful infant son on her hip and keeping a close eye on her lively toddler daughter during a recent visit to Anna’s House. She looked over at her friend and caseworker, Kris Lewman, and went on. “I was in a domestic violence relationship and lost my housing. I knew I had issues. I was in a cycle of being with the same type of man. So I needed the housing, but I needed counseling even more.”

              Kris nodded. “You’ve always been self-aware,” she said to Tiffany. “You may not always like what you learn, but you don’t stick your head in the sand. That’s one of your best qualities.”

              Tiffany continued. “I came to Anna’s House nervous about community living. I knew I needed structure. They told me, ‘If you follow the rules and work the program, we can help you.’”

While living at Anna’s House, Tiffany learned to manage her life and her money and be a better mother. Having grown up in foster care, she didn’t have a role model for good mothering when her daughter was born. “Parenting is an everyday struggle, knowing I’m responsible for making sure they turn out to be good people,” she shared.

              Tiffany now has her own townhouse and car, and a part-time job. As she moves towards independence, she still has support from Anna’s House. “I don’t even have to ask Miss Kris,” she said. “She’ll just stop by and bring something for the kids. She thinks of me—‘Tiffany might need this,’ and she’ll bring it.”

              The warmth between the two women lights up the room. “Once you said I felt like a grandmother to you,” Kris remembered. “That touched my heart. I’ve never had a client say that before.”

              “You are like a grandmother,” Tiffany responded immediately. “You call me on my mistakes. You remind me to think positive. I have so many opportunities, and I don’t know why I deserve them.”

Kris’ answer was predictable. “Think positive!”

“Love Perseveres”

Seneca and Wendy’s story

When a woman finds herself without a home or without a job, she can struggle to get back on her feet. Mental health issues, trauma, and prolonged poverty have profound effects on potential. My Sister’s Place Women’s Center provides services and security to help women find a path to self-sufficiency.

Born and raised in Baltimore, Seneca Bailey found herself couch surfing and staying in shelters after her mother moved to Oklahoma. With a friend from the shelters, Seneca started coming to My Sister’s Place for meals. “But I didn’t go up to the offices,” she said. “I don’t do well with case workers. I never keep appointments. I thought, ‘I can do this on my own.’”

Wendy Gilbert’s path to her work as therapeutic support specialist at My Sister’s Place Women’s Center paralleled the experiences of many of the women she serves in her job today. A struggling single mother and survivor of domestic violence, she found connection. “I could have been one of these women,” she said. “I love them.”

              Wendy is always on the lookout for windows of opportunity. She’d become fond of Seneca, whose work from art therapy classes adorns the walls of My Sister’s Place. But Seneca didn’t seem interested in pursuing other services available to her there. So one day, Wendy pulled Seneca into her office.

              “I just saw the love this girl has, her passion for life,” she explained. “Her artwork is beautiful. She puts forth this beautiful smile. She says ‘I LOVE you!’ and I say, ‘I love you too, just do the right thing. Show up!”

Though Wendy isn’t a caseworker, she leveraged their affectionate relationship to encourage Seneca to accept the help available and take first steps to self-sufficiency: getting her Maryland ID, getting temporary disability assistance (TDAP), applying for Social Security disability.

               “Wendy is like a best friend,” Seneca said. “I tell her almost everything. If I’m having a bad day or if anything good happens, I have to tell Wendy immediately. She helped me get my medical insurance, and I’m glad I’m in therapy now, which she’s been trying to get me to do for a year now. My Sister’s Place is a great experience. There are not a lot of places like this out there for women. And Wendy is a role model. She is just happiness, for me.”