This Miami family lost everything in a fire. They need your help to rebuild

It still smells like smoke in Pauline Dufresne’s bedroom.

She doesn’t know what caused the fire on July 21. All she knows is that while she was out shopping at Sam’s Club and her children were at summer camp, a mailman saw smoke billowing from her Miami home and called 911. A neighbor called Dufresne to tell her that her house was on fire. By the time she returned with her family, the life she and her husband had built together was reduced to the sooty skeleton of their ruined home and cracked floor tiles.

Shocked and overwhelmed, Dufresne didn’t know what to tell her children as they cried next to her. “Mommy,” her daughter said. “Are we homeless?”

The structure of the house remained, but the fire gutted the interior. In an instant, the family was forced to rely on the generosity of the community. Her husband, Monal Canton, 47, stays with a friend. Dufresne, 39, and their four children — Morayah, 11; Morgan, 9; Morena, 8; Mayah, 2 — sleep together on the couches in a neighbor’s living room, just a few yards from the charred remains of their home.

The Trump administration’s immigration policies regarding Temporary Protected Status and the recent government shutdown have made the family’s situation even more precarious. Originally from Haiti, Dufresne and Canton are both TPS holders whose legal work permits have expired. After losing access to food stamps, Dufresne has struggled to feed her young children, who are all American citizens.

As many in South Florida face economic hardship, Dufresne knows not everyone has the means to help. But she doesn’t know what else to do.

Dufresne is one of about 150 South Floridians nominated by charitable organizations to Miami Herald Charities this year for Wish Book, the Herald’s annual campaign to share the stories of families in need.

“In past years, wishes often focused on gifts or special experiences. This year, the requests are much more basic — food, clothing, laptops for students, and housing help,” said Roberta DiPietro, the Wish Book coordinator. “These are fundamental needs, and they show just how hard it’s become for many local families to stay afloat. With the continued support of our donors, we can make these wishes come true.”

Hopefully, Dufresne said, someone who reads this story can help her family. Right now, all she has is hope and the remains of a house she can’t live in.

“Maybe somebody who has a good heart could bless us,” Dufresne said, standing under a door frame blackened by smoke. “I know right now it’s hard, but a good person with a good heart can help.”

Sant La, a nonprofit social service agency that serves the Haitian community, nominated Dufresne for Wish Book to help her family secure clothing, shoes and hygiene items for the children. Above all, they need financial assistance to rebuild their home or rent an apartment. The group, which offers community programming and referral services, has been working with Dufresne since the fire, but the family’s situation is dire.

“She’s a hardworking mother,” said Olmise Delicieux, a success coach at Sant La. “I try to reassure her that better days are ahead.”

Delicieux met Dufresne after the fire. When she graduated from Florida International University with her masters degree soon after, Delicieux couldn’t focus on the ceremony. She was too worried about Dufresne and her family.

“What are we going to do for her?” Delicieux asked herself. “How can we assist her?”

One hard year

Dufresne has had to fight for her American Dream. At 15, she fled violence in Haiti to the United States by herself.

She stayed in Miami with an aunt who promised to get her a green card. But, Dufresne said, it wasn’t until she graduated from high school that she learned the truth: Her aunt lied. There was no green card.

Eventually, Dufresne managed to secure TPS in 2010. She met her husband, and they had their first child in 2014. Her husband had a seasonal job as a tax preparer, and Dufresne worked for Labcorp, a medical diagnostics company. They bought their house, a quaint 3-bedroom condo in a small North Miami-Dade complex, for $150,000 in cash in 2020, but did not take out home insurance. That was a grave mistake, Dufresne said.

The family’s hardship began when the parents lost their work permits. Dufresne’s work permit was last renewed in 2020. When she reapplied for the permit in 2023, she said, she never got a response from U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services. Last November, the couple refinanced the house with a private loan. Dufresne’s employer wanted to keep her onboard if she received a new work permit, Dufresne said, but she lost her job in May 2024.

Then came July 21. Normal day. Nothing was amiss. Everyone was out of the house.

But Barbara Francis, a neighbor, was at her home when she heard a loud boom outside. She called 911, as did a mailman passing by, and then called Dufresne. “She didn’t believe me,” Francis told the Herald.

Firefighters struggled to get into the house at first because there were hurricane shutters on the windows of the bedroom where the fire started. Francis watched as thick smoke poured from the front door.

Dufresne doesn’t know what caused the fire. In order to save money on her electric bill, she didn’t leave anything turned on or plugged in. First responders told her the fire “was electrical,” handed her a police report and left. She stood there, confused, panicked and unsure what to do next.

Sometimes, Dufresne said, she overthinks so much, it feels like her head will explode. Other times, she can’t think straight at all.

“They depend on me. Those kids depend on me,” Dufresne said. “I pray to God to keep me brave, keep me strong. I don’t have no choice. I suck it in. I take life as it is.”

Neighbors pitch in

Red Cross gave the family a $700 voucher to sleep in a hotel. The money lasted three days. She was told to call 211, a local helpline, to find a shelter to stay in, but the family was placed on a waiting list they’re still on. She called several organizations looking for help, but found little assistance.

“All her efforts were pretty much unsuccessful to rebuild because she was uninsured and she’s not working,” said Leonie Hermantin, the Sant La director of special projects, as she translated for Dufresne, who spoke in Haitian Creole and English.

Dufresne contacted Sant La shortly after the fire. Though the nonprofit doesn’t have a formal housing program, Delicieux said her boss at Sant La paid for the family to stay in an Airbnb for nine days. Sant La gave the family money for school supplies, and Delicieux raised $500 from Haitian Emmanuel Baptist Church for the family, too, Hermantin said.

“Olmise really looked high and low to see what cash resources she could find,” Hermantin said.

For the last few months, Dufresne and her children have been living with a neighbor, Jocelyne Jennings, who lives in the house directly across the courtyard from Dufresne’s home.

Jennings, who has plenty of grandchildren of her own, said she does what she can to help. She makes sure the kids wake up to get to school on time, even when they complain they want a few more minutes to sleep. “Ooooooh, I don’t play that!” Jennings said.

“We do the best we can,” Jennings said. “I’m a mother, I’m a gran-gran, a great-grandmother. I can’t let them be out there homeless.”

Jennings, Francis and other neighbors in the complex pitch in to help the family, like driving the kids to school. “Any one of us, we feed them. They go in my trampoline, they play,” Francis said. “And I’m the laundry person!”

“We work as a team. We have to do that,” Jennings said. “That’s the thing about life. We don’t know where life would take us.”

But Dufresne knows it’s a lot to ask of someone to house herself and four children. They’ve been sharing the two small couches in Jennings’ living room to sleep. The space is cramped. She can’t contribute to the household. The living situation is supposed to be temporary, but she doesn’t know when her luck will turn around.

“Every day, I’m looking at the sky wondering when I’ll get back on my feet,” Dufresne said. “If you want something, you need to have patience. I’m the one who needs it. I need to have patience.”

The bills, of course, have not stopped. Dufresne’s car was repossessed. Now the family is at risk of losing the last thing they own: the house. They don’t have enough to pay back the loan, and the house is unlivable. There’s no electricity, plumbing or interior walls.

The only part of the home’s interior that survived was the son’s bedroom because he always kept his door shut. A portrait of him as a baby still hangs on the wall. Sneakers are lined up neatly on the floor.

The girls’ shared bedroom is gone. On a recent afternoon, toy cars and plastic jewelry were strewn across the floor. The kids still play in what’s left of their home, waiting for the day they can move back in and sleep in their own beds again.

HOW TO HELP

To help this Wish Book nominee and more than 150 other families and individuals who are in need this year:

▪ To donate, use the coupon found in the newspaper or pay securely online through www.MiamiHerald.com/wishbook

▪ To donate, use the coupon found in the newspaper or pay securely online through www.MiamiHerald.com/wishbook

▪ The most requested items are often laptops and tablets for school, furniture, and accessible vans

▪ Read all Wish Book stories on www.MiamiHerald.com/wishbook

This story was originally published November 20, 2025 at 10:00 AM.