Mae, a 69-year-old grandmother, holds her grandson Rijal’s hand tightly every day. Rijal, 17, lives with an intellectual developmental disorder. While balancing a basket of vegetables on her back, Grandma Mae walks slowly through narrow alleys—step by step, struggling to survive with her grandson by her side.

Rijal is not like other teens. He can barely speak, has trouble understanding instructions, and panics easily. If Grandma Mae doesn’t hold his hand, he could run off, scream in fear, or collapse, trembling without being able to explain what’s wrong.

No one truly understands him—except her. Grandma Mae is the only one who can soothe him, hug him, and calm him when the world gets too loud and confusing.

“I’m the only home Rijal has,” she whispers. “If I’m gone… who will protect him? Who will hug him when he’s scared or mocked?”

Rijal is often laughed at for the way he walks, speaks, and reacts. Even Mae is mocked—called “Grandma of the disabled,” a cruel nickname. But she endures it all silently. As long as Rijal feels loved, nothing else matters.

Selling vegetables earns her only about $2 per day—barely enough for food and rent. Now, their lease is ending, and they don’t have enough savings to renew it.

Grandma Mae is more than just a grandmother. She’s Rijal’s mother, protector, caretaker, and only friend. But her strength is fading. She can’t keep pushing like she used to. Their home, their safety—everything is at risk.

#DearKindSouls, let’s become family to Grandma Mae and Rijal. Help provide them a safe home and support Rijal’s daily needs and therapy so he can live with more peace. Every small donation makes a big difference.