There are stories of happiness and stories of triumph. Then, there is the story of Lorinda Cataju (40) and Juan Sician Chuc (40), a couple who confronted adversity with courage, dignity, and utmost determination.

It began three years ago, when their family fell on difficult times. As farmers, they depended heavily on their crop for sustenance. However, this particular season, the crop failed, going with it, their primary income. Soon, Lorinda and Juan’s savings dried up, and they lost their house. All of a sudden, they found themselves, and their five young children, Andy, Josue, Isabella, Luis, and Mateo, with no place to go.

With their most important asset gone, and little options, Lorinda and Juan had to make an enormous decision.

“We couldn’t give food to our kids,” Lorinda says, her voice wobbling. “What do you do when you can’t provide food to your children?”

In the end, they sent all five to an orphanage forty-five minutes away.  “Once a month, we went to go see them,” Juan explains. “But it just wasn’t the same.”

Lorinda and Juan felt that they had hit rock bottom. Their living conditions were by no means adequate. “We were in a shack, covered in a nylon tarp. It didn’t have a roof, or sturdy walls. For three years, we were there. There was nothing for us there. No kitchen, no bathroom, no children.” Lorinda sighs, deeply unhappy at the recollection. “It was very difficult to live like this.”

However, she was determined to reunite their family once more. “I spoke with my husband,” recounts Lorinda. “I told him that we were going to save a little bit of money. Then, we were going to go to Habitat. And then, we were going to get our children back.”

They did just that. For the next three years, Lorinda and Juan saved. And saved. And saved. Although it took a whole year to process the paperwork, they were soon approved for their new home.

Flash forward to today. Resting upon a small, grassy hill is the family home, filled with five, giggling children and two happy parents. On the day we visit, the youngest, Mateo, is eager to give a tour of the house, pointing to the beds where he and his brothers sleep.

Lorinda beams at the sight. “It feels better to have a house at last, because at last, we have filled it with our children. Again, they can be with us.”

Juan adds, “We have a bit more time to ourselves. We can be secure. We have privacy. We have family.”

Feliza Sulwi Chopen

Outside the bustling town of San Lucas Tolimán lies a smaller, quieter community. Home to 500 families, this place, named Xejuyu (pronounced “Shay-Who-You”), is inhabited by people who speak a kaleidoscopic mixture of the Maya indigenous language, Kaqchiquel, and Spanish. Here, neighbors easily recognize one another and take care of one another’s children as if they were their own.

Feliza Sulwi Chopen, mother of two students and proud owner of a Healthy Home Kit, has lived in this community her entire life. She cares for her house while her husband, Benjamin, is away working at a major farm down the road. Since she was a girl, Feliza has used a stove to support her family. “Here in Guatemala, the stove is life,” she explains.

However, like most women in Guatemala, Feliza has used an ineffective and dangerous stove for decades. When asked about her previous device, she recalls the many issues with its construction. “Our old stove was crooked, and because of that, a lot of smoke would come out and flood the house. The smoke would also stay in the house, and it was impossible to air out our rooms when that happened.” Access to clean air was also out of the question. “The stove always affected our health; we couldn’t breathe at all inside our house.”

After receiving materials to build a new stove this past May, Feliza’s family has already witnessed several positive economic and health changes. She gives us a quick financial breakdown of how the stove has impacted her life: “Since building the stove, we have cut back a lot on paying for wood. Now, we only need a little to heat up the entire grill and to cook our food. We can put three or four pots on top and cook for the entire family. For every two pieces of wood, that’s four pots of food for a whole family.” Mostly importantly, she says, “Saving money on firewood means one more piece of bread for our children.”

Feliza also notes that the water filter and latrine have contributed to a change in routine. Rather than boiling her water, she can readily access the supply in her filter and doesn’t have to worry about falling ill from waterborne diseases. She is also pleased with her family’s latrine, which is made of stone blocks and wooden beams. “Since building the latrine, we feel happier and cleaner. The air is pure, and we have a private space where there wasn’t one before.”

Matilida Tobar

Matilda Tobar lives one house down from Feliza. While her husband works in the countryside, she is in charge of caring for her seven-year-old daughter, Paola, and the newest addition to the family, baby Brenaly. Like Feliza, she spends most of the day using a stovetop to prepare tortillas and meals for her family. Matilda is overjoyed that her new stove, which was built last May by a group of volunteers, is nothing like her old one. When remembering how the previous stove functioned, she shakes her head in disbelief.

“Our old stove was tiny! You couldn’t cook anything on it. The old kind, which almost everyone uses,

produces so much smoke and burns women and kids all the time. If you ask any of the women in this community, they can show you their scars from the burns.” In addition to the exterior risks, Matilda notes the stove’s negative impact on her family’s health. “My kids were always sick; my baby had a very bad cough for a long time, and we were always at the doctor, trying to get her help. She concludes: “Bad stoves are dangerous for everyone.”

The new stove has helped her family in many more ways than she realized. “We save a little money from not having to buy so much wood. Whatever we save, we give to our kids for school. We can buy them books, uniforms, whatever they need. Everything we do is always for our children.”

Jesús expresses a genuine warmth that fills the room. When asked about the volunteer group that came to build his house, he beams even brighter. He pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through pictures of smiling faces on a construction site.

“One night, we had a party with a lot of food, and they gave me this,” he says. He rises from the couch and walks around to the kitchen area of his new house to show us the American flag that hangs below the counter. He has also printed a photo of the volunteers giving it to him, which hangs on the opposite wall corner and proudly mentions that he is friends with them on Facebook.

After growing up in his father’s Habitat house, which was built ten years ago, Jesús decided to apply for his own. At twenty-one years old, he is highly independent and enjoys the increased flexibility between his home life and his job as a cashier at a local store down the road. In a way, constructing a house has also represented the next phase in his journey to adulthood. His father, Daniel, agrees and is happy that his son has been able to have had the experience that he had himself a decade before.

Jesús is thrilled to have a home at last.  Since moving in late July, he is happy to have discovered a newfound individuality. “Everything has changed. There’s space, and I can see my friends, as well as my father and brother. It’s more comfortable here, and I have greater freedom to do what I would like with my time.”

As for his long term plans, Jesús hopes to start a family in his new house. “First comes the house, then comes the wife and kids. I want to be able to provide for them, and the house allows for that.”

On a final note, Jesús wants to know that he will never forget them. “I am proud and very fortunate to have met you. I hope that you come visit us again. I’ll be waiting.”