My name is Guadalupe Martinez Casas, and I never thought I would be telling my story like this. I have always believed in working hard, staying humble, and handling my struggles quietly. But life has become heavier than I can carry alone.

I raised my three boys by myself after leaving my husband in Texas. He struggled with alcohol, and I knew I had to protect my children. So I packed what little we had and started over in a new city. I worked any job that would take me - packing potatoes and carrots, long hours in warehouses, produce fields - just to keep my children fed. I never complained. A mother does what she has to do.

But in 2004, my world stopped. A routine mammogram turned into the words no woman ever wants to hear: "You have cancer." I cried until I couldn't breathe. No one in my family had ever had cancer. I felt like the ground disappeared under my feet.

I survived the first surgery. I tried to smile for my boys. But the cancer came back in 2007...and again in 2016.

Each return felt like life was asking me, "How much more can you take?"

I went through three major surgeries, months of chemo that drained every bit of strength I had, and radiation that left me too weak to stand. I lost my hair, my appetite, and my ability to keep weight on my body. Some days I felt like a shadow of myself.

Long before the cancer, I had injured my back at work and needed multiple surgeries. The little compensation I received disappeared into bills within months. When the medical debt grew too heavy, I had no choice but to file for bankruptcy. I felt ashamed, but I had nothing left to give.

Today I live alone in the same small home I have lived in for nearly 18 years. My sons love me deeply, but they are raising children of their own and barely staying afloat. They help me when they can, but they can't carry my burdens for me and I don't ever want to be a weight on their shoulders.

My only income is Social Security. It barely covers rent and lights. Some days I open the fridge and there is almost nothing there. I lost my truck. I skip meals so I can pay bills. And after everything - after surviving cancer three times - I am still fighting just to make it through each month.

I never wanted to ask for help. I have always tried to be strong. But even the strongest people reach a point where they cannot stand alone.

If you are reading this, thank you.

Your kindness is a light in a very dark time.

Any help - no matter how small - will help me buy groceries, cover medical needs, and simply breathe a little easier.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for giving me hope when I need it most.