For more than twenty years as a nurse, I have seen more human suffering than I thought possible. Compassion and selflessness are built in components of nursing. It is what I am trained to do and what I love to do. However, my story is not about the patients whose lives I have touched. Instead, it is about another kind of life in need—lives without a voice, dependent entirely upon human compassion for survival. This is not the story of how I rescue humans, but the story of how I rescue humans' best friend. My love and passion for dogs have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, and ten years ago it led me into the world of animal rescue. The very first rescue we took into our home was a young dog of questionable lineage. We named him Shilo and began the arduous task of teaching him how to be a dog again. Shilo came to us terrified of people and infested with worms. By the time we found his forever home he had grown into the most beautiful, loving dog we could hope for. Watching Shilo leave with his new family was one of the happiest and one of the saddest days I have experienced. Faith was another foster, and we kept her for over a year. She was an abandoned Doberman that had starved nearly to death. Faith overcame every obstacle that life threw at her (and there were so many) eventually finding an amazing family to call her own. The last time I spoke to them she was outside, running in a field and chasing her mortal enemy, the squirrel. One of our most memorable rescues was a mother cat and her four newborn kittens. One of the kittens was born with a cleft lip and nearly died because she was unable to nurse. We bottle-fed her around the clock and named her Mouse. Despite her difficult start, Mouse survived, and she and the rest of her family eventually found loving homes. Over the last ten years many unwanted animals have come through our door. We have found homes for them all and we still get updates from the families that love them. Our last rescue was Shadow. Shadow was the most beautiful German Shepherd I had ever seen. He arrived at our home after being confined in a cage for two years. Due to his aggressive history Shadow had been deemed a 'dangerous animal' and his previous owners no longer felt safe around him. Within forty-eight hours it was evident that Shadow could not be saved. Behavioral euthanasia is a terrible reality in rescue, and this was my first experience with it. Devastated I called the previous owners with the news; Shadow would need to be euthanized. Could they come and be with him in his last moments? They declined. Shadow spent his last night on earth with me in our backyard. He wanted to look at the sky. We stayed there for hours, Shadow watching the sky for birds. The next morning Shadow went to sleep forever. I stayed with him until the end and I made sure that the last words he ever heard were what a good, good boy he was. I have not rescued any more animals since that day. Someday, when my heart heals, I will do it again. Shadow reminded me that selflessness is not measured by happy endings but by showing up when it matters most.

For more than twenty years as a nurse, I have seen more human suffering than I thought possible. Compassion and selflessness are built in components of nursing. It is what I am trained to do and what I love to do. However, my story is not about the patients whose lives I have touched. Instead, it is about another kind of life in need—lives without a voice, dependent entirely upon human compassion for survival. This is not the story of how I rescue humans, but the story of how I rescue humans' best friend. My love and passion for dogs have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, and ten years ago it led me into the world of animal rescue. The very first rescue we took into our home was a young dog of questionable lineage. We named him Shilo and began the arduous task of teaching him how to be a dog again. Shilo came to us terrified of people and infested with worms. By the time we found his forever home he had grown into the most beautiful, loving dog we could hope for. Watching Shilo leave with his new family was one of the happiest and one of the saddest days I have experienced. Faith was another foster, and we kept her for over a year. She was an abandoned Doberman that had starved nearly to death. Faith overcame every obstacle that life threw at her (and there were so many) eventually finding an amazing family to call her own. The last time I spoke to them she was outside, running in a field and chasing her mortal enemy, the squirrel. One of our most memorable rescues was a mother cat and her four newborn kittens. One of the kittens was born with a cleft lip and nearly died because she was unable to nurse. We bottle-fed her around the clock and named her Mouse. Despite her difficult start, Mouse survived, and she and the rest of her family eventually found loving homes. Over the last ten years many unwanted animals have come through our door. We have found homes for them all and we still get updates from the families that love them. Our last rescue was Shadow. Shadow was the most beautiful German Shepherd I had ever seen. He arrived at our home after being confined in a cage for two years. Due to his aggressive history Shadow had been deemed a 'dangerous animal' and his previous owners no longer felt safe around him. Within forty-eight hours it was evident that Shadow could not be saved. Behavioral euthanasia is a terrible reality in rescue, and this was my first experience with it. Devastated I called the previous owners with the news; Shadow would need to be euthanized. Could they come and be with him in his last moments? They declined. Shadow spent his last night on earth with me in our backyard. He wanted to look at the sky. We stayed there for hours, Shadow watching the sky for birds. The next morning Shadow went to sleep forever. I stayed with him until the end and I made sure that the last words he ever heard were what a good, good boy he was. I have not rescued any more animals since that day. Someday, after my heart heals, I will try again. Shadow reminded me that selflessness is not measured by happy endings but by showing up when it matters most. For him, I will heal, and when I am ready, I will rescue again.

One of the biggest deterrents to returning to college for a bachelor's degree was the fear of having to continue work while attending full-time school. I finally gathered the courage and last January I started the LPN-BSN program from the University of Sioux Falls. When I approached my supervisor to inform her of my plans, I was genuinely surprised at how supportive she was. She checks in with me several times a month to see how I am handling it and she always has a word or two of advice. This last summer I took a full load of 16 credits and although I had thought I would be overwhelmed it did not interfere with my job or my work performance, and I managed all A's! This next semester will be a little more difficult to navigate as I will need to take two weeks off of work for hospital clinicals. My supervisor has already penciled this in, and the time has been set aside. As one of the main providers for our household, I am obligated to keep my employment during school, and I am unable to afford cutting back any hours. This seems like it would be an impossible task, but I have found that online classes are so forgiving when it comes to adults who also work. The class work is geared to accommodate even the busiest of us. One of the more difficult aspects of working while attending school full-time is that every vacation day I earn is spent on clinicals, exams, or studying. As a family, we have traded our traditional vacations for my education. My husband and children have been incredibly supportive throughout this journey, but I know they miss the family trips and time together that we once enjoyed. Their willingness to make those sacrifices has helped motivate me to keep pushing forward. Twenty years ago, at the age of thirty, I made the decision to return to school to earn my nursing license. At the time, I was a single mother raising my three-year-old daughter, and those eighteen months remain some of the most difficult times of my life. As the sole provider for my child, I could not take any time off of work and I had to juggle my daughter between family members during both work and school hours. This was before online learning, and all of my classes were in person five days a week. My work hours were in the evening after school. I still remember driving to my parents to pick up my daughter at eleven thirty at night only to bring her back at seven the next morning before school started. In all honesty it was only the grace of God that got me through those days. Twenty years have passed since I experienced those difficult days of juggling school, work and my family. My life is much different now. This time around I am not doing it alone, I have the support of my husband and my grown children to help me. I have the encouragement of my supervisor and my co-workers, and I have all the knowledge accumulated over the last two decades to keep me confidant in my ability to finally achieve a college degree.

God has guided me throughout my entire life. I cannot speak enough about His saving power and the multitude of gifts that He has given me. I was not always in love with God. I did my duty and went to church, prayed and I was quick to ask Him for things; more money, new clothes, better friends, better jobs, but I never felt the true love, peace and mercy that He has for each of us until I was nearly thirty-five years old. I was struggling as a single mother, and I had just received the final notice in the mail that my electricity would be turned off for non-payment. It was here that I broke. Ten years of raising my daughter alone, working full-time, going to school, unable to afford even the most basic of needs had brought me to my knees. In fear and anger, filled with hopelessness I turned to God and asked Him why He abandoned me. The clearest voice came back to me. The voice simply said this: 'I know when a sparrow falls from the sky, how, then, have I not taken care of you? Simply ask, and trust that I will take care of you." It was at that moment that I saw clearly for the first time how much I was loved by God, how he had provided for everything that I had, and for everyone that I loved. The fear vanished, replaced by a complete and total trust in God that He would always provide for me and for my daughter. After that my life changed pretty drastically. I stopped going to the bars and started going to Church. I met the man I would eventually marry, a man who loved God even more than I did. I became a mother again, this time to a little boy. I found a better job that paid nearly twice as much as I had been making before. My little family moved into a house with a literal picket fence (not white). My life was complete. Fifteen years have passed since that pivotal moment in my life. Not every second of it has been easy, but we have found that when we put God first in our lives, when we put complete and total trust in His will for us, then our lives seem to navigate far more smoothly. Last year I asked God what more I could do for Him, I felt called in some way. My children were now grown and no longer needed me; my husband was getting closer to retirement. The answer came clearly; go back to school. I laughed at that. I had just turned fifty years old. But I had learned to listen and even more importantly I had learned to trust that voice. I applied to a Bachelor's degree program in Sioux Falls South Dakota and to my surprise I was quickly accepted. It was almost eerie how everything fell into place. Doors opened, paperwork went through rapidly, and even the technology cooperated. I am now finished with my second semester. It was a full load at sixteen credits but even working full time I managed all A's. I see God's hand everywhere in this. I was asked recently what I am going to do with my career once I graduate. God has not revealed that to me yet. But I have no fear or anxiety about the path that I will take. I have put it completely in His hands. He will show me the way when it is time.

I have three brothers; The oldest is a Marine with six years of service and two tours in Iraq under his belt. The second oldest is Green Beret Special Forces with twenty years of service. He plans to retire in two years. Billy is the youngest in our family. He was born with the biggest blue eyes and the sweetest smile that we had ever seen. He hardly ever cried, and he loved everyone, but he especially loved his older brothers. From the time that he was old enough to walk, Billy followed his brothers everywhere. He would try to imitate their tough swaggers and rough personalities and we would all laugh. Billy was the opposite of tough; He was kind, he was gentle and he couldn't hurt a fly. When Billy turned twenty, he did what both of his brothers had done and he joined the military. This came as no surprise to the rest of us. Billy wanted to save the world, just like his brothers. Both of his older brothers had advanced through the military ranks quickly, both of them had been deployed multiple times, but there was one thing that neither of them had experienced. They had not experienced combat. Billy did. Sometimes God allows things that make no sense to the rest of us. Of the three boys, Billy was the last one who should have seen combat. He was the last one who could hurt someone, even if his own life was in danger, and he was the last one who should have seen his friends perish in battle. When he returned home from Afghanistan you couldn't see the crack. Billy laughed like he always did, he hung out with his family like he always did, he even followed his dream of living on the beach in North Carolina. None of us knew of the demons he was fighting, and none of us asked. Five years have passed since we learned of my youngest brother's plan to end his life. It was a priest who saved him- A young priest to whom he went for his last confession. The priest listened, understood what was happening and began to talk to him. He convinced my baby brother to wait, to talk to his family, and to seek professional help. My little brother is still here. He is enrolled in college courses for his psychology degree, he has a good job and a nice apartment, he even started writing a book. But we do not take one day for granted. His older brothers talk to him every day. His sisters call and annoy him constantly and we take turns flying out to North Carolina to visit. He still talks to the young priest who saved his life. Service‑related PTSD is often invisible to the average person. I’ve learned that it rarely looks like what you see in the movies—some dramatic breakdown where a soldier suddenly loses control. That Hollywood version is misleading, and it fuels a stigma that can be almost as harmful as the condition itself. It can keep people living with PTSD from seeking help, held back by shame or embarrassment. Furthering my education will bring me into contact with more people who suffer from service-related PTSD, and I know that when it does, I will be prepared. Not simply because I learned the pathophysiology of mental disorders in class, but because that little boy with big blue eyes and the sweetest smile taught me that sometimes even heroes need to be rescued.

At the age of fifty most people start looking forward to retirement. My journey, however, has taken a different path—one that continues to lead me toward growth, learning, and a deeper commitment to healthcare. My inspiration to pursue this field is rooted in my family, the encouragement of my husband, my two children, and the example my mother set when she returned to college at the age of sixty to earn her four-year degree. Their belief in me has given me the confidence to pursue a career path that is both challenging and deeply meaningful. My mother has been one of my greatest inspirations. At the age of sixty, she made the courageous decision to return to college and complete her four-year degree. Watching her succeed later in life showed me that learning does not end with age and that determination can overcome any obstacle. Her example taught me that education is a lifelong journey and that it is possible to reinvent yourself at any stage of life. Because of her, I learned to believe in my own ability to take on new challenges, even in fields that require intense dedication and perseverance. My decision to pursue healthcare over other career paths comes from a deep and genuine desire to care for others. I have always felt drawn to helping people during their most vulnerable moments, whether they are experiencing illness, fear, or uncertainty. Healthcare offers a unique opportunity to make a meaningful difference in people’s lives every single day. It is a field that requires compassion, patience, and strength—qualities that I have developed throughout my life experiences. I am also naturally drawn to environments that are fast-paced and high-stress. Over time, I have learned that I thrive in situations that require quick thinking, teamwork, and the ability to remain calm under pressure. Healthcare is not only emotionally demanding but also intellectually challenging, and I find great purpose in that balance. The ability to make a difference while continuously learning and adapting is what makes this field especially meaningful to me. One of the strongest aspects of my interest in healthcare is my desire to learn as much as possible about disease processes and treatments, especially in relation to cancer care. I am deeply interested in understanding how illnesses develop, how they affect the human body, and how treatments can improve outcomes and quality of life. The complexity of cancer care, in particular, inspires me because it requires both scientific knowledge and compassionate support for patients and families. I want to be part of a profession that not only seeks to treat disease but also supports individuals through some of the most difficult moments of their lives. Pursuing healthcare at this stage in my life is not about starting over, but about building on everything I have already experienced. With the support of my family, the example set by my mother, and my own passion for learning and helping others, I am prepared to embrace this next chapter. Healthcare is more than a career choice for me—it is a calling that aligns with my strengths, my interests, and my desire to serve others with compassion and dedication.

Faith has played a central role in my life for as long as I can remember. Through moments of joy, loss, fear, and uncertainty, my Catholic faith has been the foundation that has carried me forward. It has given me strength during difficult times, guided my decisions, and shaped the person that I have become. More importantly, my faith has influenced both my academic journey and my future goals by teaching me to trust in God’s plan, even when the path ahead seems impossible. One experience in particular changed my life and deepened my belief that God has a purpose for me: Years ago, I was crossing a street toward a group of my friends waiting on the other side. As I stepped into the street I heard someone very clearly speak my name behind me. The voice was so distinct and commanding that I immediately turned around, expecting to see someone standing there. There was no one there at all. In that exact moment, a bus sped past me at nearly fifty miles an hour. Later, onlookers told me they had watched in horror as I stepped directly into the path of the oncoming bus. It was that last second when I turned to look behind me that saved my life. To this day, I believe with all my heart that my guardian angel protected me in that moment. That experience strengthened my faith and reminded me that God’s presence is real, even when we cannot see it. I realized that my life had been spared for a reason and that I was being called to serve others with compassion, love, and purpose. Throughout my life, prayer has continued to guide me, especially during times when I felt overwhelmed or uncertain about my future. As a woman over fifty balancing work, school, and family responsibilities, there were many moments when pursuing higher education felt intimidating. After working for twenty years as a Licensed Practical Nurse, I questioned whether I was capable of taking the next step and applying to an LPN to BSN program. Yet through prayer and faith, I found the courage to move forward. I trusted that if God placed this dream in my heart, He would also provide the strength to achieve it. Since beginning this journey, I have witnessed what I can only describe as miraculous doors opening in my life. Opportunities appeared when I least expected them, and support came at moments when I needed it most. There are still nights when I come home exhausted from work and family responsibilities, wondering how I will find the energy to complete assignments or study for exams. Yet somehow, through God’s grace, I continue moving forward. My faith reminds me that I am never walking this journey alone. Nursing has always been more than a profession to me; it is a calling rooted in service and compassion. Throughout my years as an LPN, I have cared for patients during some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives. I have learned that healing involves more than physical care. Sometimes patients need kindness, encouragement, hope, or simply someone willing to listen. I believe that God works through people who are willing to serve others with love and compassion, and I hope to continue doing that throughout my nursing career. Furthering my education through nursing will allow me to make an even greater difference in the lives of others. Becoming a BSN-prepared nurse will not only expand my clinical knowledge and skills but also strengthen my ability to advocate for and support patients and families. I want to use both my personal experiences and my faith to bring comfort, dignity, and compassion to those who are suffering. Whether through a kind word, a listening ear, or quality patient care, I hope to reflect the love of God in every interaction. My faith has taught me perseverance, humility, and trust. It has carried me through challenges and has given me the courage to pursue goals I once thought were beyond my reach. As I continue my academic journey, I do so with gratitude, determination, and the belief that God has guided me every step of the way.

Pursuing nursing as a woman over the age of fifty is not a decision I made lightly. It is the result of a lifetime of experiences, challenges, personal loss, and a deep commitment to caring for others. For the past twenty years, I have worked as a Licensed Practical Nurse, dedicating myself to patients and families during some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives. Although many people believe career growth slows with age, my journey has shown me that determination, compassion, and purpose do not have an expiration date. As an underrepresented woman in healthcare, I understand the importance of perseverance and resilience. Throughout my career, I have balanced long work hours, family responsibilities, financial obligations, and continuing my education. There were times when pursuing further education seemed impossible, especially while managing the demands of everyday life. However, each challenge strengthened my determination to continue growing professionally and personally. Rather than allowing my age to limit me, I view it as one of my greatest strengths. My life experiences have given me maturity, patience, empathy, and the ability to connect with people from many different backgrounds. My passion for nursing was shaped not only through my work, but also through personal experiences with illness and loss within my family. I have witnessed the emotional and physical impact healthcare challenges can have on patients and their loved ones. Those experiences taught me that nursing is far more than administering medications or performing procedures. Nursing is about listening to patients when they feel unheard, advocating for them when they are vulnerable, and offering compassion during difficult moments. These lessons have stayed with me throughout my career and continue to motivate me to advance within the nursing profession. Being an older woman returning to pursue higher education also allows me to serve as an example to others who may feel discouraged from chasing their goals later in life. Many women place the needs of their families, children, or careers ahead of their own dreams for years. I understand those sacrifices because I have lived them. By continuing my nursing education, I hope to show other women that it is never too late to invest in yourself, pursue growth, and create new opportunities. Over the past twenty years as an LPN, I have developed strong communication, leadership, and patient care skills. I have worked with diverse patient populations and learned the importance of teamwork, cultural sensitivity, and compassion in healthcare. These experiences have prepared me to take the next step toward a bachelor's degree in nursing where I will be able to expand my responsibilities and provide an even greater level of care to my patients. My goal is not only to continue serving patients, but also to become a mentor and advocate within healthcare. I want to contribute to a profession that values diversity, life experience, and compassionate leadership. As an underrepresented woman over fifty, I bring a unique perspective shaped by years of caregiving, resilience, and dedication to service. Pursuing nursing at this stage in my life is not simply about career advancement; it is about fulfilling a purpose I have carried for many years. I believe my experiences, determination, and passion for helping others will allow me to make a meaningful impact in healthcare and inspire others to believe that growth and achievement are possible at any age.

For the past twenty years, I have dedicated my life to the medical field, caring for patients during some of the most difficult moments of their lives. Throughout those years, I have witnessed both the fragility of life and the incredible strength of the human spirit. My experiences in healthcare, combined with the impact illness has had on my own family, have inspired me to pursue the path of becoming a Registered Nurse. Nursing is more than a career to me; it is an opportunity to deepen my ability to care for others, advocate for patients, and make a meaningful difference in the lives of families facing illness and uncertainty. My decision to pursue the RN path comes from both personal and professional experiences. Cancer has affected my family for generations, taking the lives of several loved ones and forever changing the people left behind. I have watched family members battle illness with courage while healthcare professionals stood beside them, offering comfort, guidance, and hope. Those experiences showed me the true impact a compassionate nurse can have on a patient and their family. Nurses are often the people patients remember most because they provide not only medical care but emotional support during life’s hardest moments. Seeing this inspired me to want to become that source of comfort and strength for others. Working in the medical field for the past two decades has strengthened that passion even further. Over the years, I have developed valuable clinical skills, learned the importance of teamwork, and gained firsthand experience caring for individuals from all walks of life. I have worked with patients who were frightened, vulnerable, and in pain, and I learned that sometimes the smallest acts of kindness can make the greatest difference. Whether comforting a patient before a procedure, listening to a family member’s concerns, or helping someone regain dignity during illness, I realized that healthcare is not only about treating disease but also about caring for the whole person. My years in healthcare have also taught me the importance of lifelong learning and professional growth. Although I have gained extensive experience, I want to expand my knowledge and responsibilities so I can provide a higher level of care. Becoming a Registered Nurse will allow me to take a more active role in patient advocacy, education, and treatment planning. I want to be able to combine my years of hands-on experience with advanced nursing knowledge to improve patient outcomes and offer compassionate, evidence-based care. In the future, my goal is to work in a field where I can continue supporting patients and families through challenging times, particularly in oncology or family-centered care. Because cancer has affected so many people close to me, I feel a deep connection to patients facing similar battles. I want to provide not only skilled nursing care but also empathy and understanding to families navigating fear and uncertainty. Eventually, I hope to mentor future healthcare workers and serve as an example of compassion, resilience, and dedication within the nursing profession. Choosing the RN path is the result of years of experience, personal loss, and a genuine passion for helping others. My twenty years in the medical field have prepared me for this next step by teaching me patience, empathy, and perseverance. Nursing represents more than career advancement for me; it represents a commitment to continue serving others with compassion and purpose. Through this journey, I hope to make a lasting difference in the patients and their families that I care for.

Cancer has been a part of my family for as long as I can remember. Of my father’s seven brothers, one passed away from pancreatic cancer, one from bone cancer, and one from brain cancer, all before the age of sixty. I watched my cousins lose their father before they even became teenagers. My mother lost her sister to lung cancer at the age of forty-five, and years later she herself was diagnosed with lymphoma at the age of sixty. Last February, my husband’s brother died from prostate cancer only one year before he was supposed to retire. Then, one month ago, my sister-in-law called me in tears after doctors found a mass on her adrenal gland. All of the lab work pointed to cancer. She has six children, and the youngest had just turned nine years old. Growing up surrounded by illness and loss changed the way I understood life. Cancer was never something distant that happened to strangers. It sat at holiday tables beside us, filled hospital rooms with relatives, and left empty chairs where loved ones once sat. Every diagnosis seemed to ripple outward through the family, affecting not only the person who was sick but everyone who loved them. I learned early how quickly life could change and how deeply illness could shape an entire family. The hardest part was often watching the children left behind. I still remember my cousins after their father died, trying to understand a loss far too heavy for children to carry. Years later, when my sister-in-law called crying about the possibility of cancer, my thoughts immediately went to her six children. I imagined the fear and uncertainty they must feel, especially the youngest, who is still so young. Yet living through so much loss has also revealed the resilience within my family. I have seen relatives sit beside hospital beds for hours, organize meals, care for children, and offer strength to one another even while grieving themselves. My mother faced lymphoma with courage, showing me that illness does not erase dignity or hope, and it is possible to fight back and win. As a family we learned to lean on each other with every life changing phone call, every hospital stay and every funeral. Cancer has shaped my family history, but it has also shaped my understanding of compassion, strength, and the fragility of life. It has taught me never to take time with loved ones for granted and to value the moments that often seem ordinary. A diagnosis of cancer is always feared but I have learned that there is so much more to life than just living it. I have sat at the bedside of dying family members as they laughed and joked, and also as they wept with sadness at having to leave this earth too soon. The one common thread between all of the cancer victims in my family was the complete faith that this was not the end of their story. Something great was waiting for them, something with a love that could not be comprehended. The greatest thing that I learned from this terrible disease called cancer was that it does not have the last say in our lives. My faith has grown and strengthened with each diagnosis and with each loved one who passes away. I know that the pain and suffering of this world no longer affect them and that they are patiently waiting for us in a different place, a place where cancer cannot go and I cannot wait for the day when I see them again.

Poverty begets poverty; A cycle that has persisted throughout history. Families have watched as their children and grandchildren have repeated it over and over again, with no end in sight. This is a story of how the chain of poverty was broken in my family - How education became the hammer, and my mother the arm that swung it, shattering the cycle of poverty with all her strength. My mother loved to teach, and she practiced her passion on all eleven of her children. We learned to read and write by the time we were three years old. Math and phonics soon followed. My parents were adamant that we attend private schools and she and my father would go to Catholic parishes together to ask for scholarships and full tuition assistance. They never took a penny from the government for help, but every Catholic school in the area knew my mother by name. She would work at the schools to help compensate the cost. She also did hair in our little kitchen with every dollar going to our education. We often went without food, heat or transportation. We never had a vacation, new clothes or went out to eat at restaurants, but we all graduated from elite private schools. This did not come without its challenges. A private school environment was difficult to navigate when you came from the 'wrong side of the tracks'. As children, we learned to defend ourselves and each other from other kids who were quick to determine that we did not belong and the bullying was frequent and often devastating. This did not deter my mother one bit. She was determined that our future would be free from the poverty that she had known. Attending good schools was not the only tool that she used to educate her eleven children. My mother loved to read to us. I remember sitting on the floor with my sisters as she read 'A Tale of Two Cities' or 'Watership Down'. As I got older and started reading on my own, I would still stop and listen as she read to my younger siblings. By this time, she had incorporated authors like Stephen King and Dick Francis. I had learned by now that she would skip the scary parts or make the exciting parts even more exciting by adding her own narrative. I often found myself at sixteen getting lost in her telling of a story that I had read many times. She always made it better. My mother was adamant that we attend college. She never had the opportunity and was determined that her children, especially the girls, were given the chance that she had dreamed of. As the oldest child I was the trailblazer for the rest of my siblings. My mother was so proud when she drove me to Moorhead State University to sign me up for classes. I lasted a year before I dropped out of school. This has always been my biggest regret. Instead of finishing college I chose to pack my car and move to Colorado where I lived and worked on a horse ranch, then in a nursing home and finally ended up at a nightclub as a waitress. This nomadic lifestyle lasted through my twenties and came to an abrupt halt when I found myself pregnant and alone. My parents came to my rescue. They helped me move back home, sign up for the LPN program and find a job and they never expressed any disappointment in my life decisions, merely encouraged and supported me throughout the following years. As the years passed, I watched as my younger siblings took the road that I had strayed from. They graduated from college with bachelors', masters' and even one PHD. I was incredibly proud of them and their successes but deep down I felt such a sense of shame that I had never completed my own education. When the last of her eleven children left home my mother decided that it was time to focus on herself. Surprising everyone, she enrolled in the same college that I had dropped out of twenty years before, Moorhead State University. At the age of sixty-one she started her first classes and at the age of sixty-five she walked into the auditorium and across the stage to receive her bachelor's degree in teaching to the applause of all eleven of her children, multiple grandchildren and one proud husband. Myself and every one of my ten siblings have raised our own families with the same respect for education that my parents had. We do not congratulate each other on fancy houses or new cars. We congratulate each other on the latest degree that was earned or the parent whose child won a Spelling Bee at school. We talk about books and theology, and we debate (often at the top of our lungs) the latest scientific discoveries about climate change. We encourage our own children to succeed because we know the value of an education. My siblings know this because they have accomplished college degrees and I know this because I have not. It wasn't until my youngest son went off to college that I took a page from my mother's life and decided that I would go back to school and earn my bachelor's degree. I chose to do this to show my children the value of what a college education can bring and to teach them and everyone else that it is never too late to learn. I will use my education and my story to be an example to others that poverty can be overcome. That education is possible and possible at any age, and that it is education that is the tool needed to finally shatter the chains of poverty.

I have three brothers; The oldest is a Marine with six years of service and two tours in Iraq under his belt. The second oldest is Green Beret Special Forces with twenty years of service. He plans to retire in two years. Billy is the youngest in our family. He was born with the biggest blue eyes and the sweetest smile that we had ever seen. He hardly ever cried, and he loved everyone, but he especially loved his older brothers. From the time that he was old enough to walk, Billy followed his brothers everywhere. He would try to imitate their tough swaggers and rough personalities and we would all laugh. Billy was the opposite of tough; He was kind, he was gentle and he couldn't hurt a fly. When Billy turned twenty, he did what both of his brothers had done and he joined the military. This came as no surprise to the rest of us. Billy wanted to save the world, just like his brothers. Both of his older brothers had advanced through the military ranks quickly, both of them had been deployed multiple times, but there was one thing that neither of them had experienced. They had not experienced combat. Billy did. Sometimes God allows things that make no sense to the rest of us. Of the three boys, Billy was the last one who should have seen combat. He was the last one who could hurt someone, even if his own life was in danger, and he was the last one who should have seen his friends perish in battle. When he returned home from Afghanistan you couldn't see the crack. Billy laughed like he always did, he hung out with his family like he always did, he even followed his dream of living on the beach in North Carolina. None of us knew of the demons he was fighting, and none of us asked. Five years have passed since we learned of my youngest brother's plan to end his life. It was a priest who saved him- A young priest to whom he went for his last confession. The priest listened, understood what was happening and began to talk to him. He convinced my baby brother to wait, to talk to his family, and to seek professional help. My little brother is still here. He is enrolled in college courses for his psychology degree, he has a good job and a nice apartment, he even started writing a book. But we do not take one day for granted. His older brothers talk to him every day. His sisters call and annoy him constantly and we take turns flying out to North Carolina to visit. He still talks to the young priest who saved his life. Service‑related PTSD is often invisible to the average person. I’ve learned that it rarely looks like what you see in the movies—some dramatic breakdown where a soldier suddenly loses control. That Hollywood version is misleading, and it fuels a stigma that can be almost as harmful as the condition itself. It can keep people living with PTSD from seeking help, held back by shame or embarrassment. Furthering my education will bring me into contact with more people who suffer from service-related PTSD, and I know that when it does, I will be prepared. Not simply because I learned the pathophysiology of mental disorders in class, but because that little boy with big blue eyes and the sweetest smile taught me that sometimes even heroes need to be rescued.

Animals have always been my love. In 2016 I started fostering abandoned dogs. Puppies, adults, old and young, my home was open to them all. My favorite moment was when the perfect match was found and a family would come and pick up the newest member, hugs and kisses all around and then they would take them away to their new life. This story is about Faith. She is the foster that made the greatest impact on our home and family. Faith was a purebred Doberman Pinscher. She had been abandoned on a reservation in South Dakota. A rancher was riding her horse in a field and came upon what looked like the corpse of a dog. When she dismounted and approached the animal, she saw that it was still alive, barely. Without hesitation she picked up the nearly dead animal and rode home with her on her lap. Once home she made the dog comfortable in the barn and called the vet. After examining the dog, the vet stated that it had just had a litter of puppies and that she was emaciated to the point of near death. It would take a lot of time and attention to bring her back. The rancher agreed and thus began months of rehabilitation for the dog they named Faith. It was through these months that the bond between the abandoned Doberman and the rancher grew. Once she was strong enough Faith followed her rescuer everywhere. As the summer waned and the temperatures began to drop, the rancher realized that Faith would need a new home. She could not survive on a ranch like the other more hardy dogs did. The rancher reached out to a rescue organization and through them a foster home was found. This is how Faith found her way to our home. When she arrived, she was quiet, distant. I could tell she very much missed someone. Over the next several months she adapted to our family. But Fate was not done with this dog. Faith soon developed terrible back pain and was diagnosed with Spondylosis, a debilitating spinal disease. She underwent many trips to the vet and medications three times a day. the pain would go away periodically and then come back. But Faith never gave up. After many months the pain was under control and Faith was finally living the happy life of a healthy well-loved dog. Again, Misfortune laid her finger on this dog when she bit an intruder that had come into the fenced yard. She was doing her job but now it was impossible to find a permanent home for Faith. The death knoll beckoned as euthanasia was first discussed, then became a near certainty. After everything she had been through, to have it end like this was too much to bear. In a last minute effort we reached out to the rancher that had found her and a miracle happened. The ranchers neighbor and friend wanted to adopt Faith. She was going home. I watched this dog for an entire year go through one impossible thing after another. And I watched as she overcame each obstacle, even the impossible ones. The day we brought Faith to her forever home was the same day I became an official student in the Nursing program. I would never have applied if Faith had not shown me the way. In our family we now have a motto: whenever anything becomes too difficult we simply say, "Have Faith".