Santa Cruz, Occidental Mindoro — In the coastal barangay of Alacaak, where children play barefoot on sun-warmed roads and families gather under the shade of mango trees, lives a woman whose strength is quiet but unwavering. Her name is Crizza Joy Villamin Lazo—a mother of four, a partner, a neighbor, a friend.

There was a time when each day for     izza felt like a test of endurance. Her partner, Renato, worked far away in Manila, doing contract work for an electric company and sending home what little he could—just enough to keep the lights on, but rarely enough to ease the weight on her shoulders. With four children—one in high school, two in elementary, and a little one just starting daycare—her days were a cycle of stretching meals, sewing torn uniforms, and praying that tomorrow would somehow be a bit kinder than today.

But she was never one to complain. Crizza met hardship with action.

In 2023, a new door opened when their family became part of the Pantawid Pamilyang Pilipino Program, or 4Ps. It didn’t promise magic, but it offered hope—a kind of hope that came with structure, accountability, and connection. The program saw in Crizza not just a mother in need, but a mother ready to rise.

And rise she did, not alone, but with the strength of a community behind her.

She reached out to local microfinance groups—CARD Bank, ASA Philippines, and LifeBank. With the trust they placed in her, she began borrowing not just money, but belief. From a loan came school supplies. From another, a small “ukay-ukay” stall bloomed at the side of the road. Later, she added bread and pastries to her table—soft rolls that quickly found a place in her neighbors’ morning routines. Every peso earned was a seed planted, and slowly, her family began to grow beyond survival.

Crizza wasn’t just building a livelihood. She was building relationships. She became a Parent Leader in their 4Ps cluster, guiding 24 other members with the same heart and care she gave to her children. She reminded them of schedules, encouraged their attendance, listened without judgment, and gently reminded them of what they, too, could become.

People began to look at her differently—not with pity, but with respect. Her resilience became a beacon. Not because she had everything figured out, but because she was walking her path with purpose, and pulling others along with her.

Through the support of NGOs, microfinance institutions, local leaders, and even other parents like her, Crizza began to realize a truth that many often forget: no one succeeds alone. Every meal on her table was made possible by the sweat of her husband, the support of a government program, the trust of loan officers, the guidance of barangay health workers, and the kindness of her own neighbors who chose to support her small business instead of going to the market.

Each child she raises carries not just her love but the love of a village.

And in return, she gives back.

Now, two years after becoming part of 4Ps, Crizza’s family is thriving. Her children are in school and doing well. Her savings are growing. Their meals are more nutritious. They have plans, not just prayers. And in their modest home, there is something that once seemed out of reach—peace.

Crizza Joy Villamin Lazo is no longer just a mother struggling to get by. She is a woman helping to carry others. She is proof that when a community believes in one family, that family can begin to believe in themselves.

Because in the end, Crizza’s journey is not just her own. It is a beautiful reminder that behind every strong mother is a network of hearts holding hers. And in places like Barangay Alacaak, where life is not always easy but always full of promise, it truly does take a village to raise a child—and to help a mother dream again.