Shenouda grew up in Manshiyat Naser, a slum just outside Cairo. People referred to it as Garbage City because the residents ran Cairo’s garbage industry. She grew up in a devout and poor Coptic Christian family. Everyone in her family herded pigs. The pigs ate mainly pieces of garbage, found wherever they could find it. Shenouda, however, never became aware of her own poverty. As a child, she only knew the love of her parents and the tough work of watching the herds.

She grew up fast, however, when the tenuous nature of their life allowed for unfortunate change. Things got bad as times changed. Her family fell apart. Her father died. Her mother became ill.

Shenouda determined to save her mother’s life. She began working for the local church. She worked hard. She developed a trustworthy reputation. She paid medical bills. In a slum-world without credit checks and reliable law enforcement, your reputation either made or broke you. Shenouda could have made a decent life for herself right then and there. Through her church, she could have gone on to better herself and her entire community. The world, however, had other plans for her. Her mother’s condition worsened. The medical bills grew steeper.

In Shenouda’s darkest hour, she made a choice. She would never reflect back on the choice once she made it. The doctors gave her an ultimatum.

“Your mother will die if she does not have surgery.”

Shenouda could not afford the surgery. The church, on the other hand, had money. Shenouda knew where they hid the money. She took it. She took it and she knew that that money should have built a new cathedral, but she took it anyways. She paid for the surgery. Then, she packed her small sack of belongings and she left. In her adolescence, she shook the dust of that bittersweet Garbage City off of her sandals and she walked off into the desert.