For Shonda and her three daughters—Aviana (13), Vaughncia (19), and three-year-old Rohana (Roro)—life in Albion, New York, was simple and filled with family.
They woke up to the quiet of the country: trees, wildlife, and the breeze instead of city noise. Shonda would sit outside and enjoy the deer. Inside, her youngest, Roro, turned every day into a party.
"We wake up to a party. We go to sleep to a party." Shonda remembers. The house in Albion was always full—nieces, nephews, great-nieces, and great-nephews.
In July 2025, when Shonda sat down with the team to share her story, those same kids were still calling Shonda at Ronald McDonald House New York asking, "When are you coming home, Auntie?" and she was telling them, "Soon. Roro's gotta get better first."
But to understand the gravity of this moment, we need to rewind—to the winding path that brought Shonda and Roro to New York City and through the doors of Ronald McDonald House New York.
Roro's Heart was Broken
After turning two, the everyday party stopped, and Roro suddenly changed. She stopped playing and eating. She wasn't herself. She just wanted to go home every day and be with her family.
Shonda took her to the doctor because she wasn't pooping. One hospital sent them home, even though a nurse was worried about Roro's breathing. Shonda took her to another children's hospital, where they discovered that Roro had an enlarged heart with a blood clot.
From there, specialists at Morgan Stanley and New York-Presbyterian became involved. Doctors placed her on a machine called the Berlin Heart to keep her alive while she waited for a heart transplant. Roro was added to the donor list on August 1, 2024.
On June 24, 2025, the call finally came: she received her new heart.
"She's doing good, she's up, walking, talking, and eating," Shonda said.
Five Hours From Home, and Nowhere to Go
Shonda is originally from Rochester, New York, but the family now lives in Albion—"the country part of the upstate", about a five-hour drive (or seven hours by bus) from New York City. When Roro was transferred downstate in 2024, everything moved fast.
"She came on a private jet," Shonda says. Doctors from the children's hospital flew with her.
"I came on a train, because I only travel train."
At first, Shonda stayed at the hospital constantly. She slept in Roro's unit and didn't leave.
"It was traumatizing," she says softly, recalling the pediatric ICU. She watched other infants and children go through crises and saw her own daughter get better, then worse, then better again.
But this time, unlike when her older daughter had heart surgery as a baby, Shonda didn't have family nearby. She was alone in a city she didn't know, with nowhere to stay long-term, and two other daughters who needed her.
That's when Ronald McDonald House New York stepped in.
"The House Made a Way"
Through the hospital social worker Shonda calls "the best"—Jennifer Bash—Shonda was referred to Ronald McDonald House New York.
Because Shonda was staying full-time in the hospital, Ronald McDonald House New York arranged for her to come to the House earlier than expected.
"Ronald McDonald (House New York) had made it a way if I could come on the 12th," she explains.
She arrived on August 12, 2024, and her daughters joined her toward the end of the month.
That decision changed everything.
When Shonda first walked into the House, she was nervous and standoffish. She had no family in New York City, no existing community.
At first, even among the families, people stayed in their own corners—language barriers, different backgrounds, different stories. Then Shonda did something simple and powerful: she suggested a karaoke night.
"I was like, I can't do this separation thing," she says. "I want—I speak to everybody. I'm very friendly. I keep a smile on my face."
Karaoke broke the ice. They cheered each other on. Kids and parents sang and danced together, in Spanish and English, to all kinds of music.
"After that, everybody just started getting close," Shonda recalls. "Now we say 'Hi, family. How are you doing, family, friends?'"
The House quickly began to feel like home.
Making Space for Sisters
For Aviana and Vaughncia, this was their first time living in New York City. Their first week at the House, they even spotted celebrities—Angela from Joyful Noise, Chris Pratt, Emily Blunt. For teens far from home, those are the moments that stick.
The House gave them something else, too: routines and spaces that were just for them.
- The Play Space quickly became Aviana's favorite place.
"They do slime," she says. And recently, she became old enough for teen night—a chance to stay a little later, play a little longer, and order their own food with other teens while the younger kids leave and parents step back.
- The Living Room is memorable for Vaughncia—not just for the soft couches perfect for a nap, but because that's where she met her first celebrity.
Still, behind the fun, there's stress. Being an older sibling in this situation is heavy.
"I wish my sister could come back home," Aviana admits.
Shonda explains that, as the oldest, Aviana carries more responsibility. On days when Shonda doesn't feel well, Aviana is the one who goes to the hospital to sit with the baby. She can do things her younger sister isn't old enough to do yet.
When asked what she would say to other older siblings in similar situations, Vaughncia offers words full of maturity:
"Don't blame yourself. Think open-minded. Help your siblings and help your parents, because they need help as well, because their mental is not good either."
That understanding—of both her sister's needs and her mom's mental load—blossomed while they were living at Ronald McDonald House New York.
What the House Provides: More Than a Room
When they first saw their room at the House, Shonda immediately noticed the comfort and the relief it would bring.
The room was:
- Spacious enough that no one had to "sleep on top of each other"
- Equipped with a refrigerator.
When Roro returned to the House with her family, they were moved to one of the six post-transplant suites in the House. These six suites provide a private personal kitchen where Shonda was able to cook for the whole family.
About RMH-NY’s Post-Transplant Suites
Ronald McDonald House New York is the only facility in New York City that offers six specialized post-transplant suites outside of a hospital setting, providing ultra-clean environments where immunocompromised children can safely recover alongside their families for three to six months after a major transplant.
Cooking has always been one of the ways she loves her family. At the House, that didn't change.
She laughs that she doesn't eat much of the catered food because it's healthier than she's used to:
"If it ain't fried, it ain't right," Shonda jokes.
So, she uses the kitchen often, cooking everything from pork chop sandwiches to the spaghetti her daughters beg for. Aviana and Vaughncia talk about her meals—especially the spaghetti with pepperoni and sausage—as if they are a taste of home inside the city.
Beyond the room and kitchen, the family has made full use of House programs:
- Outings and events that made them feel special—like the Fourth of July, when police provided a special escort and shut down roads.
"They made us feel like we were better than Trump," Shonda laughs. "I felt bigger than Beyoncé."
Family Support, which has been there on days when Shonda had no kids around and no one else to lean on. She's gone to them in tears, and they've been a steady presence.
The Wellness Center, which all three women love. They talk about:
- Quiet time
- Foot massages
- Nail painting
- Back massage
- Coffee and Smoothies
- Sound baths with Reiki
…which are so relaxing that even Shonda—who rarely lets herself sleep deeply—admits, "You go to sleep. I done snored a couple times up there during the sound bath."
Even with the challenges—like wishing the community kitchens weren't closed at certain times, or laughing about how often tacos appear—Shonda is clear: they are deeply grateful.
"I'm very happy that they do all that," she says of the meals, transportation, and support. "I'm very, very grateful for the Ronald McDonald House (New York)."
Staff and Volunteers Who Feel Like Family
The longer they've stayed, the more staff names roll off Shonda and her daughters' tongues with warmth and affection.
They light up when they talk about:
- Nadia, who teases them and keeps things light.
- Jackie, Stephanie, Sheila, Edwin, and Peter, who make sure families have what they need.
- Charles, who they lovingly call the Tyler Perry look-alike.
- Front desk staff who track down what they ask for.
- Volunteers who help serve food and keep things moving.
"They make sure we have what we need—they're attentive and confident," Shonda says.
The volunteers matter just as much. She's grateful for the extra hands and hearts.
Friends Who Became Family
Over the past year, the House has also given Shonda something she didn't expect: lifelong friends.
She remembers seeing one mom, Melissa, who looked like she needed a hug. Shonda gave her one, and from that day, they've been very close.
"We've been friends since," she says. "She acts just like me."
Another mom, Shani, used to walk around with a serious, closed-off expression. Shonda gently encouraged her to smile, to look for something good. They, too, became close.
Even families who have already gone home still call. One mom phones her every day.
"She calls me every day, 'Hey, sister,'" Shonda says with pride.
The bonds built here don't end when a family checks out. They extend past these walls, into whatever comes next.
What She'd Tell New Families Walking Through the Door
If Shonda could speak directly to a parent or caregiver arriving at Ronald McDonald House New York for the first time, her message would be simple and strong:
- "Don't let the worry hold you down."
- Be gentle with yourself.
- Take advantage of what the House offers—meals, support, programs, connections—without feeling guilty.
- Ask staff for help when you need it; they are friendly, and they care.
Most of all, she says, "Doin' too much crying brings stress, so just enjoy it and let God do his job, because he got us."
To siblings, especially older ones, her daughters add: you're not alone in feeling overwhelmed, and your parents need support too.
Gratitude for Donors: "If It Wasn't for Y'all…"
When asked what she would say to donors who make Ronald McDonald House New York possible, Shonda doesn't hesitate:
"Thank you for everything that y'all do for us," she says.
She knows the House is a nonprofit and that donations are what keep families like hers close to their children during medical crises.
She also thinks of families who come from around the world:
"A lot of families from around the world who aren't even from the States really do need them," she explains. Some parents have to travel to the U.S. for treatment while their child is in the hospital here. Without a place like Ronald McDonald House New York, there would be nowhere affordable for them to stay.
Shonda is clear: she plans to give back.
"When I leave here, I donate to the House too," she says.
"Every time I go to McDonald's, they say, 'You want to donate to Ronald McDonald House?'—push that button."
Donate to the House today to keep families like Shonda and Roro together in their darkest moments.
"More Than a House"
At the end of their interview, Shonda and her daughters were asked to complete this sentence:
"Ronald McDonald House New York is more than a house. It's a ____."
Shonda answered from the heart:
"Ronald McDonald House New York is more than a house. It is family to me."
Aviana followed:
"Ronald McDonald House New York is more than a house. To me, it's a community."
Those words, spoken after nearly a year of long hospital days, late-night Ubers, teen nights, sleepy sound baths, karaoke, shared meals, and shared tears, are not just a line for the camera.
Here are a few descriptions of exactly what the House has been for Shonda and her girls:
- A family when theirs was five hours away.
- A built-in community when they arrived and knew no one.
- A place where, even in the hardest year of this family’s life, there was still room for laughter, songs, and huge waves of hope.
