When Marie R. Paul Saint-Juste, as most know her — arrived in New York City, she came searching for opportunity. What she found instead was grace.
The city was loud, relentless, and unkind to those who dared to dream without a safety net. The skyline was beautiful but distant — a reminder that greatness, like glass towers, can seem untouchable. Rosie had traded the warm rhythm of Liancourt, Haiti, and the easy smiles of Jamaica, for subways that screamed, nights that never slept, and streets that demanded more than they gave.
At first, she tried to fit in — to survive the pace, to prove she belonged. She built her small business, Essence de Beauté, from the ground up, offering beauty and care to women who had forgotten what peace felt like. It was honest work, and it helped her survive. But deep inside, Rosie knew something greater was calling — something that had nothing to do with survival, and everything to do with purpose.
One winter night, after closing her shop, Rosie walked through the snow-lit streets of Brooklyn. She was exhausted, carrying more weight in her heart than in her hands. The city was cold, both in weather and in spirit. And there, in that still moment, she whispered the same prayer she had whispered since childhood:
“Lord, if You still remember me, show me the reason I am here.”
Only this time, something had changed. The table wasn’t in Haiti anymore. It was in New York — right in the middle of a city that often forgot to slow down, to give thanks, to love. She woke up with tears in her eyes and one unshakable truth in her heart: Grace had found her again.
From that moment, New York stopped feeling like a battlefield and started feeling like holy ground. Rosie began to see God’s fingerprints in every corner — in the tired mother she helped feed, in the lonely elder who smiled when she visited, in the immigrant family who called her “angel.” Grace, she realized, was everywhere — hidden behind faces that just needed someone to notice them.
It was in that revelation that L’Action de Grâce took root.
It began not as a grand plan but as a simple act of thanksgiving. Rosie gathered friends and families together for nights of prayer, music, and testimony. There was no stage, no spotlight — only worship, laughter, and the deep peace that comes when hearts open. What started in living rooms and community halls grew into something far larger — a movement of gratitude that crossed boroughs, languages, and nations.
Soon, L’Action de Grâce was no longer just a phrase; it was a way of life.
A mission that turned ordinary moments into miracles, and ordinary people into messengers of grace.
Rosie often says, “God didn’t send me to New York to find success. He sent me here to find Him again — and to help others do the same.”
Today, the same city that once felt impossible is now the headquarters of hope. Through L’Action de Grâce, hundreds have found faith, families have been restored, and strangers have become family. From the crowded subways to candlelit gatherings in Manhattan, from outreach drives in Queens to worship events in Long Island, grace has found its home here — and it keeps multiplying.
New York may be the city that never sleeps, but now, in its restless heartbeat, praise rises every day.
New York may be the city that never sleeps, but now, in its restless heartbeat, praise rises every day. And wherever L’Action de Grâce goes — in sanctuaries, in schools, in streets — it carries the same message: Grace doesn’t need an invitation. It finds you — even when you’ve lost your way. It meets you in your struggle, your dreams, your prayers.
It meets you in the noise of New York, whispering softly, “You are seen. You are chosen. You are loved.”
Because grace is not a place. It’s a person — and He knows where to find you.
