Tears choke her words as Danisleidy Riol Castro recalls the terrible experience she went through that night, when the waters of the Cauto River flooded her home and threatened her life and that of her five young children. She remains at the Rita Longa art instructors' school, but her thoughts seem to be far away.

"We never imagined that the river would rise so high during the cyclone. My house is right next to it, the bridge passes very close by... Everything seemed normal, and suddenly the water began to rise. It was very distressing. We, mothers with children, didn't know what to do. My house was the first to flood.

"There was no one to get us out. At that hour, there was no car to take us away, and the water was breaking through everywhere. We were evacuated to Vado del Yeso and stayed there for three days until they brought us here. It was terrible. You looked around, and there was water everywhere; nothing could be saved from the flood. The children were crying, upset, looking at me for comfort, calling for their grandmother; everyone was crying, desperate for their relatives. This had never been seen before."

The stories of disasters told in movies pale in comparison to those experienced by the evacuees who are now in the province of Las Tunas, families separated by tragedy and years of sacrifice and perseverance to build a home that were cut short by the force of nature.

Danisleidy did not have time to collect any belongings. A hug for each child, the cry of the baby in her arms, and the feeling that there would be no return to the home where they had lived for so many years was all that went through her mind.

In the protection center, the stay feels like a sunset at home, she says, with five children around her and her hands always busy calming, distracting, or carrying each one according to the needs of the moment.

"The care here has been wonderful. We have no complaints about anything. The children have been treated excellently, as if we were at home. We received donations and were treated with kindness. From the moment we arrived and got off the bus, we felt that we were being taken care of. We feel protected."

"We lost everything material. Not a single piece of clothing remained. Those things don't hurt me because I have my children with me. I am alone with my five children. I have gone through the hardest thing a mother can go through for her children, but now what matters is that they are alive. My mother-in-law is sick, and I have her here by my side, helping me. Thank God, we are all here, alive."

“Going through this has been tremendous. What weighs most heavily on us is the uncertainty about those who have not yet left and what we have lost, but the company of our family and the support they have given us here keep our hopes alive. We have our health, and that is the most important thing.”

Her life before the hurricane was one of strict care, after going through difficult times that are painful to recount today. Fabián suffered a bronchospasm when he was just one month old, and today, at two months old, he smiles when he sees so many people around him, his gaze reflecting his innocence. Since then, every calm breath the child takes has become a daily miracle that she does not allow herself to take for granted.

Today, each of her children shared their story, their games in the cubicle's routine that becomes a habit when you have little and learn to share what is essential. Many show how they learn to value what others call trivialities, a shared candy and a half-shared doll.

Losing everything in the cyclone also meant losing their family's material history, the toys they had inherited from their siblings, the furniture in their home, and above all, Fabián's layette, which they had managed to acquire with so much sacrifice.

“What weighs most heavily on us cannot be measured in material terms; it is the uncertainty about where we will sleep the next few nights when we return, how to recover my house, and the daily question of how to rebuild the children's home with the bare minimum.”

Her life after the cyclone is one of active waiting. Everything around her revolves around caring for the youngest child with the patience that recent hardship has taught her and supporting the four older children. Meanwhile, she remains here, but with her gaze fixed on the future and her memory on that sad night that flooded her existence.