02/14/2026
This Friday, someone very close to me became a Canadian citizen.
It felt especially meaningful because this weekend in Canada is Family Day. A holiday that, at its core, is about belonging. About the people who anchor us.
Seven years ago we began the process of sponsoring his family. Fundraising. Paperwork. Interviews. Waiting. Covid in the middle. More waiting.
Seven years from sponsorship to citizenship.
When you’re in the middle of something like that, it can feel endless. There are moments when you wonder if the outcome will ever arrive. And then one day, it does. A ceremony. An oath. A passport. A family that once fled discrimination now firmly rooted.
It reminded me of something.
The John Gullo Home for Children aka Casa Hogar para Niños John Gullo took five years from the first dollar raised to ribbon cutting.
Five years of planning, fundraising, setbacks, construction, persistence.
Now, just over a year later, it is still not fully operational. And I’ll be honest, I get impatient. I want it running at full capacity yesterday. I want to see the rooms filled with children who need safety. I want the impact now.
Friday was a reminder that meaningful outcomes rarely move on our timeline.
Seven years for a family to go from displacement to citizenship.
Five years to build a home that will serve vulnerable children for decades.
Globally, more than 100 million people are displaced. Tens of millions are children. Many experience prolonged family separation.
In Mexico, thousands of children live outside of stable family care due to poverty, violence, or abandonment. And alongside the numbers is stigma. Families who fall on hard times are often judged. Children in care are often labeled. The narrative becomes about failure instead of circumstance.
The John Gullo Home exists to interrupt that narrative.
It exists so that family crisis does not automatically become family separation.
It exists so that children are not defined by their most vulnerable moment.
It exists so that dignity is preserved while stability is rebuilt.
Impact like that takes time.
This weekend, as we recognize Family Day here in Canada, I am thinking about the families who will one day walk through our doors. The parents trying to hold things together. The children who need safety without stigma. The long arc between vision and outcome.
To our board, supporters, and partners: thank you for your patience. Thank you for believing that slow does not mean stalled. That persistence matters.
Friday reminded me that when we stay the course, the ceremony eventually comes.
Meaningful change is rarely fast. But it is worth the wait.
Thank you as always for your generosity. Many of you reading this donated to this family all those years ago and probably forgot. They didnt forget. I’ll never forget and I’m so very proud of the work we do together. Thank you
