Long before she went into labor, it was obvious to Hope Burgos what she would name her first daughter: Serenity, a quality that had long been absent from Burgos' life, but one that she had always hoped to create for her children. The name came from a prayer that she said as a teenager living in a group home and struggling with her mental health, "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference."
That attitude is one Burgos has tried to model for her family this year, despite the hardships they have faced.
Last summer, Burgos could no longer afford her rent and moved her two children -- Serenity, then 4, and her 2-year-old son, Sage -- into the New York City shelter system. They were placed in the Nyma Hotel, across the street from the Empire State Building. The food they were given was mostly low quality, and Burgos' daughter awoke throwing up each night. Those episodes kept them up late; then they woke early for an hourlong commute to day care and work in the Bronx.
Burgos worked as an assistant at a physician's office, helping with scheduling and various clinical tasks. When the pandemic struck, the pressures of her job heightened. She helped the physician tend to multiple covid-19 patients each day, hoping that her mask would keep her from getting infected with the coronavirus and becoming a vector to her children and others at the hotel. She could sense that her daughter was aware of the risks her job posed.
"My daughter is so smart and she would tell everyone, 'I don't want to get covid, people are dying,'" Burgos said.
The fears she heard from her daughter weighed heavily on her. Burgos had always wanted to provide her children with emotional safety, ensuring they wouldn't experience the isolation she had felt growing up.
Burgos was abused when she was 13. She then began "acting out" in school, she said, and was moved into a group home for youth where, she recalled, she faced further abuse. She dropped out of school after eighth grade. But she was determined to be financially independent and to eventually have children, so she worked job after job -- first at Dunkin' Donuts and a D'Agostino's grocery store, then at the Wildlife Conservation Society. She bought herself a "GED for Dummies" book and finally passed the test in her early 20s. She was able to enroll in a community college and got the sense that her life was beginning in earnest.
She was proud to secure a job as an assistant at a physician's private practice. But she still grappled with the task of supporting her two children as a single mother making just over minimum wage in New York City. In their year living at the shelter, she daydreamed about being able to move her children back into their own home. What helped her stay calm during that period of uncertainty was her ability to keep her belongings in a storage unit, which was paid for by funds from the Community Service Society of New York, one of the 10 organizations supported by The New York Times Neediest Cases Fund.
In March, Burgos filled out the paperwork to apply for a subsidized apartment. She was able to move her family late this summer. With the little money she had saved, she bought them the essentials: a bed, a dresser, toilet paper, shampoo. The feeling of moving into their new home was bittersweet at first. "My daughter told me that she liked the shelter better," Burgos said. "Because the house was empty. She had nothing."
Burgos retrieved their belongings from the storage unit so that her daughter could play with the toys she hadn't seen in a year.
When the week of her daughter's birthday arrived, Burgos turned her energy to making their empty apartment feel festive. She purchased a cake, cut up fruits to form a makeshift rainbow and invited friends over for a party that was BYOC: bring your own chair. She blew up the air mattress given to her by the shelter so that her children could jump on it. Then they filled their new home with cheer as they sang "Happy Birthday."
"It was in the midst of the move, and virtual school, but I have to acknowledge these things," she said. "It's what makes life worth living."