The rusty gate opens with a creak, leading the way to an old house in northern Moldova.

Its walls are cracked and the windows are broken in places. Inside, the air is heavy with mold and damp. The walls are covered in worn wallpaper and the ceiling is stained black by mold and smoke from the stove. Outside it’s rainy and grey, and inside, the light is dull.

It may not be much, but it’s the place that a mother and four children in Moldova call home. Stela Nastas, 46, is raising four children alone after losing her husband to a heart attack about six years ago. Her grandson Alex also lives with them as his parents are away working.

“My whole world was crushed when my husband died,” Stela said. “It was when we were both working in construction in Russia. I had to move back to Moldova to start everything from scratch. I was alone with five children to look after, and I had no help, no support from anyone.”

“When we moved in here,” she said, “Nobody had lived in this section of the house for over a year. There was a lot of cleaning that had to be done both inside and outside in order to make the place livable. It was a disaster.”

The six of them live in just two rooms: the first is an all-purpose one: kitchen, living room and bathroom. The fire stove, located in the right corner of the room, serves for cooking, warming water for washing, bathing, and heating the house. The toilet is outside. Another room, fully packed with beds, is the family bedroom. The house has no electricity or running water because of the owner not paying the bills. However, the owner is allowing the Nasta's family to live there rent-free because of this and other issues.

“I’m blessed to have kind neighbors who give us water so we don’t always have to carry it over from the well,” Stela said. “And in spite of the challenges, we are so incredibly grateful to have a roof over our heads. We consider it a miracle that we don’t have to pay rent.

“For us, the most important thing is that we have a place to live and be together.

“After my husband died, loneliness, hopelessness and insecurity were my closest friends - but I realised I had to try to stay strong for my kids”

“I found a place to rent and started to work hard anywhere I could find a job. I was under so much pressure, and felt a great deal of stress and exhaustion.

“Sometimes I’d hope that a good night’s sleep would make everything better, but in the morning I’d wake up and everything still felt the same. I realised that physical rest wasn’t enough. I continued to feel lonely and like no one cared. I was so weary of asking for help from the local authorities and always being treated with contempt and coldness.”

Everything changed for Stela and her children when she met Ion, the family worker from Mission Without Borders (MWB), and her family was enrolled on the family sponsorship programme.

“When I met Ion, he spoke to me about a Mission that wants to be close to my family and offer me help because God loves me and my children,” Stela said. “I don’t remember the exact words he said but I was touched by his sincerity, kindness and respect and I started thinking, ‘Can this really be true? Could there really be someone who would care about us?’

“I remember when I ran out of my asthma medicine, and I told Ion about it. He said he would do his best to get it for me in the next few days. I was just so down, I had no money. I tried to borrow some from my neighbour, but she didn’t have any either, so I was just praying and hoping that I wouldn’t have any problems over the next few days. The big surprise was when I heard the dog barking and Ion’s voice calling. He brought me the medicine that evening. That really meant a lot to me. Maybe he had other plans, but he got the medicine for me and all he said was, ‘Stela, God loves you and your family very much.’”

MWB supplied the family with furniture, beds and mattresses, and a small table, and continue to support Stela and the children towards self-sufficiency. And this winter, as the cold weather began to set in, MWB was there for Stela once again.