My Mother does not have a name.

Everyone called her Grandma Daisy.

She hates flowers.

My mother was a stubborn woman. There was no winning an argument against her.

Even after the Reset, when no one had anything. Her need to help others never left.

She grew up poor. I know, because she wouldn’t let you forget.

After achieving her dream of building a soup kitchen, it burned down shortly after the Reset began. Lost everything in that building. All the equipment, food, furniture, clothes. Everything.

This was a crushing blow to my mother, as well as the community she was trying to elevate.

Her charity continued on. My mother went as far to adopt eight children who were orphaned due to the Reset. As the big sister, I helped take care of them.

Although my mother did not love the End of Life program, she suffered a majority of her life with endometriosis, but she wasn’t going to let her constant suffering inhibit her from giving back first.

When her condition went into permanent remission, she was diagnosed with severe ovarian cysts that had become septic without her noticing.

My mother being a stubborn woman, insisted she was fine.

She was air lifted to a hospital after she passed out giving away hot plates of food to the wanderers.

In her final days, she participated in the End of Life program and donated the money evenly between her fostered children.

I recruited her fostered children, my brothers and sisters, and we all work together to continue Grandma Daisy’s dream.

You can visit her grave in Louisiana, underneath an old willow tree that always has at least one daisy flower near her burial spot.

I have now picked up where she has left off and continue charity events to this day. We have now rebuilt the soup kitchen and continue to feed those less fortunate in the honor as the “Grandma Daisy Foundation”.