WHEN Donette Vickers returned home she could barely recognise what was left of it. Hurricane Melissa had not simply damaged her home, it had erased it. Everything inside, from furniture to clothing, was washed away. The place that once held laughter, schoolbooks and family meals was gone. Only the foundation remained, like a scar in the earth. For someone who had lived in the Whitehouse, Westmoreland, community since birth, the sight cut deep. She said it felt like losing a part of herself.

“Everything is gone. We have nothing, not even two trees, and the community doesn’t even look the same again,” Vickers shared.

Her life before the storm was already marked by a long list of battles. When she became pregnant with her first son, she faced painful rejection from the father who pushed her to end the pregnancy. She remembers feeling frightened but determined — the pressure was heavy, and the support was not there. She chose motherhood anyway and decided she would carry her son to term and raise him, even if no one stood beside her.

Raising her two boys, now 17 and 14, she often survived on whatever work came her way. Many mornings she did not know if she could afford to give them lunch money or even the taxi fare. She would look at them getting ready for school and wonder how she would find the money. Those moments pushed her to tears. “I didn’t know what to do a lot of the time. I remember pleading with God to help me to not beg anymore,” she said.

Her home was her comfort. It had two rooms and a bathroom. It was simple, but it held years of memories. Now the rooms exist only in her mind. She can point to where the boys slept. She can point to where she cooked. But the walls have vanished.

After the storm, Vickers gathered her sons and went to stay with her cousin. They now share a single room. She says it is not easy with three people in such a tight space but she is grateful to rest in a safe environment where her boys can sleep without fear.

To manage daily needs she has been juggling by selling small items. It is not a steady income but it gives her a sense of purpose while she works out the next steps. It keeps her going while she searches for some kind of solid ground.

Her community has shown her deep compassion. Neighbours check in, and friends drop off small items to help her get by. Yet even with all this support she admits she still feels lost. She doesn’t know how to begin again when everything she worked so hard to build has been swept away.

“People in the community have been helping, and me give thanks. I just want a chance to start over. Throughout everything, my biggest concern is my boys. I want them to be able to go back to school and be alright,” she shared.

“When I saw the trucks and the Red Stripe people I said, ‘I have to come collect something and try to get what I can for my family,’ ” she said. “I’m grateful for everything they’re doing in the community. God bless them.”

The Red Stripe Beer Love Serves relief mission has been supporting families whose lives and livelihoods were disrupted during Hurricane Melissa.

Though Vickers has moments when she feels overwhelmed, she says gratitude steadies her. Every kind gesture, every unexpected act of charity, and every person who remembers her boys gives her the strength to push through another day. Their kindness reminds her that she is not standing alone on that empty foundation. She knows rebuilding will take faith and time but she refuses to let fear silence her hopes, and she prays that her life will one day return to normal.