She Lost Everything. But She’s Still Fighting.

Yesterday, I sat with Rinku, a young widow and mother of four.

Rinku with Kareena, her second daughter

As she spoke, tears streamed down her face, recalling the day everything changed. She came home to find the door locked. Peering through the window, her world stopped—her husband was hanging from the ceiling fan. By the time she came to her senses, neighbors had broken in, taken his body down, called the police, and sent him to the hospital. She never saw him again. Just like that, the man she had run away with 13 years ago, defying both their families to marry for love, was gone.

Her life is one of quiet, unimaginable strength. Every day at 5:00 AM, while the world still sleeps, she steps into the streets with a sack on her back, picking through trash and scrap to earn a few hundred rupees—just enough to feed her children and pay the rent for a single-room shelter. It’s not a job anyone dreams of. But for Rinku, it’s survival.

He left no savings, no backup plan—only a heartbreaking note: “Do not blame my wife.” But blame is exactly what Rinku received. Her landlord hurled curses, calling her a bad omen. Her in-laws took one of her children and declared her a curse. Even her own family shut their doors. She has nowhere to go. And yet, every single day, she chooses not to give up.

She chooses to fight—for her children.

Neeru, her eldest, is just 12, but she carries herself with a spark that hints at something greater. She understood me when I spoke to her in English. There’s potential in her eyes—potential that deserves a chance. Kareena, 9, is quiet. There’s a deep stillness in her gaze, the kind born from sorrow too heavy for a child. She curled up in the corner of their cot, until her friends coaxed her outside to play. And Ansh—the youngest, only 3. His name means “a part of,” and truly, he is a piece of the man who left them, and also a symbol of what remains.

Rinku is doing everything in her power to send all three to school. She dreams of giving them a life better than the one she has known. But dreams need help.

That’s where we come in.

Vikram with Rinku and Widow's Hope Coordinator, Manju.

Rinku knows how to sew. We are helping her purchase a sewing machine so she can earn more in the afternoons. Neeru, too, wants to learn. They dream of opening a small tailoring shop together—just mother and daughter, rebuilding a life thread by thread.

We believe in that dream.

We believe in Rinku.

And we believe that with your help, she can reclaim her dignity and rebuild what was shattered.

Dear friend, your support does more than provide material help. It says to women like Rinku: You are not alone. You are not cursed. You are seen, valued, and loved.

Thank you for making this possible. Thank you for standing with women like Rinku—and for being the hope they desperately need.