Mrs. Manana is a nurse by profession. She dedicated her life to caring for others. But now she is alone. Alone with the illness, pain, and hardships that life has dealt her. She has no one to empathize with her, to give her water, or, as she says, to bury her. For more than a year, she has been unable to eat on her own. She can’t go to the bathroom or even approach the window to see the sun. She has no food, medicine, refrigerator, washing machine, gas, or heating. But first and foremost, she dreams of having a bed.
The bed in her home is an old broken sofa with books instead of legs. It’s impossible to lie on it.

“Sikoria deda,” Ketevan repeats and cries again. Then she obediently allows Matsatso to take care of her. She eats soup from a spoon and listens to the praise of how good a girl she is. Matsatso changes her diaper and takes her for a little ride in a wheelchair around the yard. And the tears keep flowing. Her right arm is immobile, and her right leg is too. Her tongue is unresponsive and sluggish. Her eyes see nothing… This is what the stroke did to Ketevan. No, this is what a state can do to a person. Look at the helpless Ketevan and be careful! This is the high price one can pay for trying to get help from the state.

Karina: “These are the exercises I do with my daughter every day. It’s our entire treatment! Sometimes, we don’t even have enough money for food! And I’m walking around in torn shoes myself!”
“The problem is, I often suffer from terrible headaches too! But going for a consultation – there’s no money for that! And then I’m helpless… And my heart aches for my child!”
How far is a mother willing to go for the health of her child? What sacrifices is she ready to make? How many days can she go without food, and how many years can she wear the same torn shoes, just to ensure her only joy isn’t deprived? And how long can she ignore her excruciating headaches that are killing her?
“My daughter is my whole world. I have no one but her and we’re alone in this entire world! How we manage to survive – I don’t know. But perhaps God loves my Juliette and won’t leave us.”

The house is a torture chamber for children! If we don’t warm them with love, irreversible tragedy will soon strike! Mzevinar, the mother, is uncertain whether she and her children can be rescued. She’s reaching out for our help, refusing to accept that God has decreed perpetual suffering for her family. Her husband, Avtandil, already once jailed for domestic violence, is a drunken brute, creating an atmosphere of fear, while his wife and children – Rusudan and Tariel – are hostages of fear and violence! After the brute’s release from prison, they are once again taken hostage by Avtandil. Rusudan has been living in her own world for 23 years now. She never had any friends, and she only talks to herself. “Tariel is afraid of everything. Even the word ‘father’ triggers panic attacks in him. His hands shake, and he starts to stutter.”

Gio (6 years old): “My little brother is 9 months old, mother’s milk is not enough for him, and he cries all day from hunger. What should we feed him? The only edible thing we have at home is stale bread. Little Nikoloz won’t be able to chew it, he doesn’t have any teeth yet. But mom has no money for anything else.” Mariam: “If someone has the opportunity to shelter us, to give us one room, I will be immensely grateful. Or, perhaps, there will be a kind person who will help with renting an apartment? We live in an emergency building that can collapse at any moment. What will happen to my children? And where will we go?” Just imagine for a moment that such a misfortune happened to you or your loved ones. What would you do? Help this unfortunate woman raise two sons for the future of our country, our beloved Georgia! There is no one to help her. Her father is dead, her mother is disabled, and she herself needs help. If you do not help such needy people as Mariam and her children, then who does?

What’s worse: terminal cancer or a home completely burned to ashes? A large family with two little children—a one-month-old and a two-year-old—is crying out for help! But there’s no one to turn to…The six thousand lari that the local government allocated is a mockery of their enormous grief… We are their only hope