By Alejandra Moreno

Mexico City, February 2025 – “At any given time, if I have money from donations and we don’t have groceries, I go to the store in the morning to buy it and cook for the people,” says Don Juan, director of the Guadalupano Shelter in the Colonia Roma, Mexico City. Beyond his managerial responsibilities,  Don Juan assumes a deeply personal role: caring for more than 40 people, who rely on the shelter.

I ask, surprised, if anyone else helps him with the work that the shelter does. “No,”  he replies. He manages both administrative and operational matters, management, and, as he puts it, serving as the “father” of the household. This means caring for, protecting, and sometimes even  scolding the people who live under that roof.

For nearly 35 years, the Guadalupano Shelter has provided a haven for pediatric patients from Mexico City and  their families, offering them shelter and food during their most challenging times. Now under Don Juan’s leadership, the shelter continues its mission by touching countless lives.

The “invisibles ones” in the Mexican health system

Although Mexico has a public health system that, through federal and state public institutions, is responsible for the coverage of clinical procedures, consultations, and surgeries, it is also a known reality that access to this public service comes with accessibility challenges for those entitled to it, who, once they begin their treatments, must face long hours of waiting, as well as delayed follow-ups  due to the saturation of the public health service in Mexico.

Amid  these difficulties, there is a less visible but equally crucial problem: the well-being of those who accompany the patients. What happens to families who must travel from distant locations for  long-term treatments? Many of them endure  weeks or even months away from home, with no clear options for lodging or food.

Hospitals, already overloaded, lack  the capacity to meet these “secondary” needs.. However, as the United Nations emphasizes, the right to health goes beyond medical care to  include an environment that promotes comprehensive well-being: clean water, adequate food, and decent living conditions.

An oasis in the vast urban desert

In this context, shelters for patients’ relatives emerge as a necessary refuge, offering support to those who also need care while they care for them.

By offering asylum and support to patients for the duration of their treatment, shelters become a cornerstone of the right to health; without them, many of these treatments would not be possible. In Mexico, although there are government-run shelters, they often operate under stricter policies: they are only open for the night, and only one relative is allowed per patient.

The Guadalupano Shelter, however , offers a more comprehensive approach. All relatives are admitted, and both  patients and families can also stay during the day –  for as long as needed. When asked what activities the relatives and patients do during the day at the Shelter, with a friendly laugh he answers “rest, that’s what they need.”

Offering rest, security, empathy and food to those who, in addition to the burden of having a sick family member, must deal with fatigue accumulated over months or even years, is an admirable task.

At the cost of endless and sometimes poorly paid hours of physical, mental, and emotional work, Don Juan makes sure that the families’ sleep is not disturbed more than the illnesses they already deal with. The Shelter is like an oasis in the middle of a desert of uncertainty and worry about the future.

Don Juan tells us that there are patients who have been there for years, and some others, unfortunately, do not see the time to return home approaching.

“We have a patient who has just received a very difficult diagnosis; he will have to spend a year hospitalized and bedridden in the Children’s Hospital, and we are looking for a way to get some books or things with which he can entertain himself, and of course, take care of the family.”

And this is where the difference between the Guadalupano Shelter and the others is evident: They do not care for patients, nor do they care for family members, nor do they care for numbers. It is about  caring for people.

And these people, in most cases, become family, when they find, in a hostile and overcrowded metropolis like Mexico City, a helping hand that offers unconditional and human support, regardless of whether it is for 2 months or 10 years.

Sometimes, Don Juan also suffers from frustration and despair, and he tells us that, like in every family, there are discussions, dramas, and fights, but without a doubt also a love and care that is often absent from the cold and bureaucratic environment of public shelters.

To keep caring: Stories and future challenges

Caring for people goes beyond the technical; for Don Juan, and the Shelter, the well-being of patients and families becomes a community matter, where everyone, including other beneficiaries, intervene.

Success stories also abound at the Shelter. For example, Alondra stayed at the shelter while battling cancer for months, and ultimately overcame her illness. Or a patient from Michoacán, now in remission,  continues to visit the shelter  when she travels to Mexico City for periodic check-ups.

The Guadalupano Shelter, not being an authorized donor, cannot receive monetary donations. However, donations in kind, or on-site volunteering, are always necessary: ​​medications (pediatric and specialized), psychological volunteering, food or money are welcome.

Without those who empathize with the cause, the shelter would not only be unable to support the children and their families, but could even cease to exist.