Our Story
Born from a dream.
Built with love.
A Little Help?! didn't start with a business plan. It started with a vision, a broken-open heart, and a refusal to let a dream stay a dream.
Our Story
A Little Help?! didn't start with a business plan. It started with a vision, a broken-open heart, and a refusal to let a dream stay a dream.
Where It Began
It was one of the hardest stretches of my life. My partner was in a mental health crisis. The world felt like it was tearing apart at every seam. I had just marked 10 years sober — a decade of rebuilding myself from the inside out — and I felt the weight of a broken world in a way I couldn't ignore.
I didn't know what to do with that feeling. So I did what I'd learned to do in recovery: I got quiet. I went inward. I went to Colombia for a healing plant medicine retreat with indigenous teachers. I came home with more questions than answers — and then, on my second night of real sleep, I had a dream unlike anything I'd ever experienced.
"It was more like a long break from this dimension. So real, so vividly instructional. Every step was laid out — from 'acquire the domain' to 'legalize the nonprofit through the state, then federally.' My 11-year-old son was walking me through the jungle, the one I had recently left, teaching me how to build a nonprofit, a website, and an app. When I woke up, I remembered every word, every step — and to be honest, I was a little terrified."
Before the Dream
Before the dream, there was Colombia. I traveled to the Sibundoy Valley in Putumayo — the Sacred Valley of the Kamëntsá people — and spent time at Shanayoy Healing Center with Taita Juan Bautista Agreda, Erika Salazar, and their families. Erika has worked alongside Taita Juan for over 20 years and lives on the land with her husband and children, rooted in the medicine and the earth. It was there, in the maloka, surrounded by medicinal plants and mist-covered mountains, that something in me opened. I came home changed. And two nights later, I had the dream that built all of this.
I owe a debt of gratitude I can never fully repay. But I can point people toward them.
That's me with Rosie — Erika's daughter. We had an immediate connection, both of us with dirt on our hands and a little plant between us. It's one of the clearest pictures I have of what A Little Help?! is actually about.
The Kamëntsá people of the Sibundoy Valley have stewarded sacred plants, healing traditions, and ancestral knowledge for generations. Their wisdom deserves to be honored and supported.
The Symbol
Over a year before Colombia, I had visions of an oak tree — wide, full, sheltering. My 11-year-old and I were sitting in the branches. Little groups of people gathered in the shade below. I didn't know what it meant yet. I just held it.
After building the nonprofit, I found a tree near my house that kept calling to me. I'd walk past it, stop, feel something. I found out later it was a live oak — a tree that never loses its leaves, that grows a wide umbrella canopy, that provides shade year-round. Always present. Always sheltering.
That was the logo. I'd designed it before I knew what it was.
Live oaks keep their leaves year-round. The community is always there.
The broad canopy shelters everyone underneath — no exceptions.
Small acts that grow into something much larger than themselves.
The Build
I had never written a line of code. I had no technical background, no team, no outside funding, and no blueprint. What I had was the dream, a deep belief in people, and a willingness to figure it out one step at a time.
Using emerging AI tools and sheer determination, I built A Little Help?! from scratch — the app, the nonprofit, the legal structure, the brand, all of it — within months. Not because it was easy. Because it was necessary.
"It's more than an app. It's a movement, a calling. A movement calling us home to each other."
The 501(c)(3) was approved in June 2025. The app is live. The mission is clear. And the tree is still standing in that park in Arlington, wide and sheltering, leaves still on — just like it always was.
When the person helping you looks like the person you've been taught to fear — consciousness expands. One micro-act of kindness at a time, we are rebuilding the social fabric of America.
Founder & Executive Director
I built the app, established the nonprofit, and refused to let a dream stay a dream — all without a technical background, a team, or outside funding.