On January 7, 2025, fire swept through the canyons and coastlines of Los Angeles, leaving behind scorched earth, collapsed homes, and families forced to flee with little more than what they could carry. Nearly 20% of our Marymount families were displaced. Some lost everything. Others waited in the unbearable in-between, uncertain whether anything could be salvaged. The impact was both immediate and lingering — a wound reaching deep into our hearts and community.
And yet, amid the smoke and ash, something holy happened: we were held.
Our school community came together with a kind of love that doesn’t need to be taught — it simply rises when people choose one another. Parents opened their homes. Students organized drives. Faculty showed up with presence and tenderness. Our Pavilion became more than a place where athletes stretched their limits; it became a place of comfort, where grief met grace, and resilience quietly took root as our community came together and filled it with meaningful donations for our extended Marymount family.
But perhaps the most humbling and hope-filled part of our journey was discovering that the love stretched far beyond our own hilltop. Across the country, Marymount New York reached out — not with a press release or a distant sentiment, but with prayers, funds, handwritten notes, and deep compassion. In a moment of overwhelming need, you saw us and moved toward us with open hands and open hearts.
You reminded us what it means to be a global network, not just in name, but in spirit. What it means to be rooted in the charism of the Religious of the Sacred Heart of Mary: to respond with action, to accompany with love, and to never look away from the suffering of another. Your generosity brought tangible relief — but even more than that, it brought us back to ourselves. It reminded us that we are not alone, that the mission binds us across oceans and ZIP codes, and that the heart of this work is — and always will be — love.
As we entered Holy Week, we were more attuned than ever to the story of loss and resurrection. Through your solidarity, we felt the stirrings of Easter morning — the quiet return of hope, and the strength to begin again.
From all of us at Marymount Los Angeles: thank you. You were the outstretched hand when we needed it most. You were the light flickering in the dark. You were family.