Before anything changed, Dylan’s childhood was shaped by loss.
His mother died when he was young, and he moved in with his grandmother. They spent their days collecting recyclable materials from the trash, moving from place to place, exposed and unsupervised. School wasn’t part of his daily rhythm, and neither was stability; with time, his grandmother knew she couldn’t provide the level of care he needed.
This is how he lost grip on his adolescence, quietly and slowly. It was evident in the absence of protection and consistency, and his chance to truly remain a child longer went with it. And beneath those realities, his desire for family grew. He wanted to be chosen, for someone to stay.
He held to that hope as he grew older, even when it felt more distant than present. At 16, his window for familial belonging grew smaller and smaller. Children age out of systems at 18, and he knew what might lie before him: a trajectory for prolonged instability and the heaviness of being left alone to figure out his next steps.
This is a moment many youth like Dylan experience: one way leads to change, growth, and belonging; the other leads to increased questioning and a lack of direction. Dylan’s story reached this exact hinge, and then he met César and Juany in 2025.
With no children of their own, they felt a growing desire to step toward someone who needed them. When they met Dylan, they didn’t see a problem to be solved; they saw a young man waiting to be known.
And they chose him.
Like the family he had longed and hoped for, they kept choosing him. Again, and again. Day after day.
They opened their home to him, asked him to make it his own. Consistency replaced uncertainty. Meals and routines weren’t question marks, but certainties. Care wasn’t occasional, but constant. Their patience and presence slowly rebuilt what he’d missed for years.
Dylan is in school now. He’s learning academically and practically, mastering cooking, how to care for his own spaces, and how to take small steps toward independence. Many teens learn these lessons without much thought, but for Dylan, each new lesson and step is restoration in process.
He still faces challenges; relationships don’t always feel easy, and time away from his family feels overwhelming, but he’s no longer navigating any of it alone. He is supported and known.
And this stable, nurturing environment is allowing changes in Dylan that everyone can see. This restoration isn’t perfect, and it isn’t an instant transformation, but it is a life no longer defined by lack.
Today, when he thinks about his future, it is not with questions, but with confidence. He knows his future is an opening, not a closing. And this is where your role is key. Stories like Dylan’s don’t change on their own. Without someone stepping in, youth remain in patterns of waiting, adapting, and surviving, not thriving.
But when someone says yes, something changes. When you invest in Back2Back programming and the Care Fund, you ensure that dedicated staff are on the field, potential caregivers and foster parents are equipped, and no child is left behind. Because of you, stability becomes the norm, and a future can peacefully take shape.
