Our Story

That trust brought me to Franciscan Mission Service in Washington, D.C., where I prepared for a long-term mission. I learned the unique Franciscan approach to mission: a ministry of presence, solidarity, and humility. The Franciscan charism was not about doing but being—being present to others, walking alongside them, and sharing in their joys and sorrows. It was an invitation to humbly serve, not from a place of superiority, but from a deep sense of solidarity, acknowledging the dignity of all people.

In 2016, I was sent to Kingston, Jamaica, where I served alongside Franciscan Sisters, teaching children with learning differences and helping with high school retreats. However, after contracting Dengue Fever and Zika, my body and spirit were exhausted. I returned to the U.S. for recovery, but the weight of the experience left me questioning the future of my mission.

Called Again

In my grief, I turned again to prayer. Through a weeklong silent retreat, I began to let go of the pain I carried and listen anew for God’s voice. “Maybe this is a new calling,” my mission director told me. “A new beginning.” Slowly, Scripture began to illuminate my path. The stories of God calling the weak, the unsure, the broken. It felt as though they had been written for me. And then, a conversation with a current missioner in Guatemala reignited a flicker of hope. Something stirred. “Okay, God,” I whispered, “I’ll go to Guatemala.”

Finding Home in Guatemala

In January 2017, I arrived in Guatemala, and from the moment I stepped onto the soil, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time: peace. At Valle de los Ángeles, a Franciscan boarding school in Guatemala City, I was welcomed into a community that embodied the Franciscan spirit of hospitality. I was embraced with open arms by children, teachers, and the entire community.

I didn’t just teach English or lead activities—I lived alongside the children. I listened to their struggles, celebrated their joys, and shared everyday life with them. I became a mother figure, mentor, friend, and spiritual companion to the 215 children I lived among. I baked, gardened, prayed, listened, danced, cried, and laughed with them. I loved them deeply—and when it hurt, I chose to love even more.

This love transformed me. It was here that I began to understand the depth of what it means to love and be loved. The children showed me radical kindness, hospitality, generosity, resilience—and what it means to be fully seen. Mission was never easy. It demanded vulnerability, sacrifice, and deep trust. But it also softened my heart, allowing me to embrace my gentle, compassionate, and loving nature more fully. Through surrender, I discovered a profound joy. And it was in Guatemala, with these children, that a new dream began to take root.

As my time at Valle unfolded, I formed especially deep bonds with the oldest girls—those preparing to graduate. For most of their lives, Valle had been their anchor, their home, and their family. But as they prepared to step into the next chapter, they faced a world that felt uncertain and unfamiliar. I was drawn to their vulnerability, their strength, and their potential. They began to trust me deeply, and together we walked through their joys and sorrows, building sacred, lasting relationships.

I did my best to be fully present—to listen, guide, and reflect God’s love. In walking with them, a deeper calling emerged within me: a desire to dream bigger for these young women. It was in this sacred space—where love, faith, and accompaniment met—that a new vision and calling began to take root.

A Stirring Vision

My heart was moved with compassion for these graduating girls. As I wrestled with this reality in prayer, I began to sense a gentle nudge. One day, while praying in the chapel, I heard a quiet but clear phrase in my heart: “transition house.” Uncertain of its meaning, I placed this phrase in God’s hands. I began a nine-day novena of surrender, entrusting the whole decision to God’s will. During the novena, a friend told me about St. Thérèse of Lisieux, the patron saint of missioners,  and her promise to send a rose as a sign of answered prayer. I asked for a pink rose as my sign of “yes.”

On the final day of the novena, a volunteer gave me an unexpected gift, a pink rose. The next day, I saw a single pink rose blooming on a bush outside the church. In the weeks that followed, pink roses began appearing everywhere—quiet, tender confirmations of God’s nearness. 

A Dream, Put on Hold 

Animated by these signs, I began sharing my vision with others and finding companions who might help this dream come alive. But as momentum began to build, so did the obstacles.  Plans shifted. Doubts crept in. And then, the world shut down. The pandemic disrupted everything—lockdowns began, and the future became uncertain. I no longer knew what would come of the vision placed on my heart. But in that season of stillness and uncertainty, I realized something: I had been holding on too tightly.

I needed to let go. With trembling hands and heart, I surrendered—offering the girls, the mission, the timing, and the future back to God. And in that surrender, I found peace. If this dream was truly God’s will, I trusted that He would bring it to life—in God’s perfect timing.

The Preparation Season

During this time of uncertainty, I returned to the U.S. and, in 2021, earned a degree in Organizational Leadership from Creighton University, where I focused on leadership and sustainable project development. I also lived simply as the house manager of a Catholic Worker House for immigrant women and children, continuing to grow in hospitality and accompaniment. Every encounter, every shared meal, and every prayer became preparation for what God was still calling me to do.

In October 2022, when I accepted a role at my home parish as youth minister at Epiphany Catholic Church, but my heart remained tethered to Guatemala. I loved walking with young people in their faith journeys—but deep within, I sensed: there was still more for me.

In April 2024, I took a leap of faith and stepped away from my role at Epiphany to return to mission. As I returned to Guatemala, I felt it: peace, clarity, home. Reconnecting with the girls at Valle, I listened to their stories, their fears, their dreams. And the truth became clear; I couldn’t just visit anymore. The vision returned, this time with full clarity. My heart said yes again—fully. I would create what had been stirring in my spirit all along: a transition home.

Casa Rosa Is Born 

In June 2024, I participated in the GIVEN Institute’s Catholic women’s leadership forum, a formation program that equips women to embrace their unique vocations. I was chosen for their yearlong Art of Accompaniment Mentoring Program and paired with Sr. Mary Ignatius, Society of Our Lady of the Most Holy Trinity (SOLT). Her prayerful guidance helped me grow spiritually and discern God’s plan more deeply. GIVEN’s formation and supportive network empowered me to embrace my feminine genius and respond boldly to God’s call. With their encouragement, mentorship, and accompaniment, the vision that had been quietly forming in my heart—to create a transition home for young women in Guatemala—became a concrete action plan. My dream began to take root.

The transition home slowly began to take shape. First, a name. I would call it Casa Rosa—a name rich in meaning, speaking to both the heart of the mission and the spiritual devotion to St. Thérèse of Lisieux, whose promised roses from heaven had stood as a sign of God’s love and care.

In November 2024, I founded EmpowerHer Guatemala, a nonprofit dedicated to the mission of Casa Rosa. With a committed board and a growing circle of faithful companions, the foundation was being laid. Psychologists, social workers, and educators are stepping forward, ready to walk with the girls.

In January 2025, I officially moved back to Guatemala with just a suitcase of belongings—and a heart full of dreams for Casa Rosa. I didn’t know exactly how things would unfold or how long it would take, but I went in faith, trusting that if I kept saying yes, God would lead the way. And He did. Every step—whether teaching life skills to the girls at Valle, building a local team, securing a house, or preparing the application process—was marked by God’s providence and the quiet, steady guidance of the Holy Spirit. Each moment brought the vision one step closer to becoming reality.

A Mission Blossoms 

The seed planted all those years ago has blossomed into something beautiful. What began as a whisper is now a lived mission—a legacy of love growing through the lives of the girls who first stole my heart, the ones I walk with now, and the many still to come. I now see clearly: God has been preparing me for this all along. For years, I wondered who would walk with these girls after graduation—and now I know. God has empowered me to be that person.

An Invitation to Join the Story 

The time has come—God’s perfect timing. I have been lifted up and inspired by so many who believe in the power of transformation and the dignity of every young woman. Grateful for those who have shaped me—my family, friends, teachers, and communities—I am reminded that Casa Rosa is not just my mission; it is God’s. We joyfully await the arrival of our first group of girls in October 2025 and invite you to be part of the story God is still writing.

Paz y Amor,

Erin McHugh