By Alphonsine Anderson

Some stories echo long after they’re told. This one began with a message—soft, humble, unexpected—and it reminded us why Rising Above the Storms exists in the first place. Last week, as our family celebrated the wedding of our youngest sister in Rwanda, a quiet act of generosity arrived from miles away. It came from a woman who has every reason to hold tightly to the little she has… and yet, she chose to give.

She is the mother of Lionel—one of the students in our scholarship program. Her son qualifies for support because their family faces real, daily challenges. Ten thousand Rwandan francs (just $7 USD) is not a small amount for her. It can mean several meals for her entire household. It is the kind of money a struggling family cannot release lightly.

And yet, she did. Not because she was invited to the wedding. She wasn’t. Not because she hoped to attend. She couldn’t—she lives far outside Kigali. Not because anyone asked. No one did. She gave out of gratitude. Pure, unfiltered gratitude from a mother’s heart. Here is the message she sent to my sister Alice—one of our RAS staff members in Rwanda, the one who first began as a volunteer at the very beginning of our work, long before she ever earned a paycheck for it (translated from Kinyarwanda):
“Hello Alice, This is Mama Lionel. I want to thank you for encouraging us by paying for my child’s school fees. May God bless you and keep you safe. One of my son’s teachers told me that your family is having a wedding. I want to wish you a happy wedding and send you this small contribution. It comes from the bottom of my heart. Thank you!”

When Alice received that message, she immediately shared it with me. We all choked up. In Rwanda, weddings are community affairs. People contribute what they can—5,000 RWF, 10,000 RWF, sometimes 100,000 RWF—often tied to their means and usually accompanied by an invitation to attend. But this wasn’t that kind of contribution. This mother wasn’t on the guest list. She wasn’t preparing a dress or planning a trip to Kigali. Her gift was a simple offering of the heart.

And it struck me deeply because I know exactly what 10,000 RWF means in the life of a struggling family. It’s not pocket change. It’s sacrifice. It’s love. It’s honor. It is also a reflection of something profoundly human:
When you lift up a child, you don’t just transform a future.
You touch an entire family.
You restore dignity.
You awaken gratitude.
And gratitude, when it sees a chance to give back—even in the smallest ways—becomes its own kind of miracle.

Alice herself embodies that same spirit of service. Before she ever joined us as paid staff, she volunteered at the very beginning of Rising Above the Storms, offering her time and passion long before we could compensate her. Today, she represents RAS during our partnerships, ensuring transparency and professionalism—backed by her dual master’s degrees in Social Work and International Relations and formal training in child protection. She is the kind of leader who understands the weight of responsibility and the privilege of service.

So when this mother reached out to her, it wasn’t just a gesture. It was a circle completing itself. This is what Rising Above the Storms is about. Quiet dignity. Transformational hope. The kind of impact that inspires generosity from those who have the least to spare. It’s a reminder that compassion grows roots. And sometimes, it blossoms in the most unexpected places.

This woman initiated this gift all on her own—because of the impact you helped us make on her child and her family. Her generosity may have looked small on paper, but in truth, it was larger than life. If a mother with so little can give so much, imagine what we can do together. A scholarship doesn’t just educate a child—it restores a family’s hope. It redirects a future. It rewrites a story.
















































