My name is Paris, and I’m writing this on behalf of my mum, my four siblings, and her baby on the way. It’s difficult for us to ask for help, but we’re at a point where we truly don’t have any other choice.

Just a few months ago, my dad, Clint, passed away suddenly at the age of 44 from a stroke. His death was a complete shock and has completely shattered our family. My mum lost her partner of over 20 years, and we lost our loving dad—the man who worked tirelessly to give us a home, security, and love. Now, we’re facing another devastating loss: the home he worked so hard to provide for us.

We’re only reaching out for help now because my mum has been too proud and embarrassed to ask sooner. With no life insurance and no grandparents to help (all of whom have passed away), she’s been left with no choice but to claim Universal Credit just to keep us going. She’s always believed in tackling challenges on her own, but this is a mountain too steep for her to climb alone.

Our home—the only stability we have left—has a mortgage that we simply cannot afford. We need to raise £200,000 to pay it off by August 2025. Without this, we will be forced to leave the house where my mum and dad built a life together, where we’ve grown up, and where my younger siblings feel safe.

For my younger siblings, this home is everything. My 2-year-old sister still asks when Dad is coming home. My 1-year-old brother doesn’t understand what’s happening, but he clings to my mum, sensing her pain. My mum is doing her best, but she’s grieving the love of her life while pregnant with her sixth child and carrying the weight of an impossible situation.

We’ve done everything we can to manage on our own, but there’s no way to raise this amount of money in time without help. I’m 19 years old, stepping into a role I never imagined, trying to help my mum care for my siblings and find a way forward. But the truth is, we can’t do this alone.

This house is more than just a roof over our heads. It’s the only piece of my dad we have left—the rooms he painted, the garden he loved, and the place where we still feel his presence. Losing it would mean losing the heart of our family and the only place my mum and siblings feel truly safe.

We know times are hard for everyone, and asking for this kind of help is the hardest thing we’ve ever had to do. But if you’re able to contribute—no matter how small—you’ll be giving our family hope. Even if you can’t donate, sharing our story could help us reach someone who might be able to.

We have until August 2025 to raise £200,000. This is our only chance to save our home and give my mum and siblings a place to grieve, heal, and rebuild our lives.

Thank you for reading our story and for any kindness, generosity, or prayers you can offer. It means more to us than words can express.

With gratitude and hope,

Paris x