by Bridget Carroll ’26 on December 11, 2025
News
For most people, Providence College is home for four years. For Graciete Morales, it has been home for 34 years—not as a student, but as a member of the community of hard-working individuals who help it run every day.
Graciete (“Grace”) Morales was born in Cape Verde, Africa, on Jan. 9, 1962. She was the firstborn of five children to two incredibly loving parents. Her birth was something of a miracle in itself. Before she was born, her father had lost two children from a previous relationship, both taken far too soon. Because of that loss, the bond between Morales and her father was unbreakable from the start. Her family lived and worked on a large fruit farm in Cape Verde. After attending school for only a short time, she began working for her father at the age of 12, selling fruit in busy marketplaces. While most kids would have complained, Morales recognized at a young age that her family needed her. She sacrificed an education to work, making sure there was always food on the table. Morales recalled loving to work. She quickly embraced meeting and talking to customers—some of whom were the kindest people she has ever known. Another small reward was that she got to eat her favorite fruit, mango. Beyond her work, Morales remembers spending every Sunday at church with her family. It was there she first felt a deep connection with God— one that has only strengthened through the years.
In 1991, when Morales was 29, she received her green card and moved to the United States. It was the hardest decision of her life—one made even more painful because it meant saying goodbye to her children. Despite the heartbreak, Moralese knew this path meant an opportunity to build a life that would allow her to provide even more for her family. Deep down, she had no doubt it was something she had to do. What made the journey a little easier was that she was with her cousin, Zeferino, who gave her comfort and strength every step of the way.
Her life in the United States began in Massachusetts. She worked cleaning fish for a year before moving to Providence in 1992. Morales found her current home in Pawtucket and immediately started looking for work. When I asked Morales how she found Providence College, she didn’t hesitate. “I asked God,” she said with a smile. “God told me, Grace, I’m going to give you a job very close to your house.” He kept His promise. She heard about jobs cleaning on-campus buildings from a friend of Zeferino’s and wasted no time. She was at PC the next day with her papers in hand, ready to work. Morales was hired and started work immediately. “On my first day, I didn’t understand anything,” she recalls, “but everyone was so welcoming.” Today, 34 years later, Morales says that the welcoming feeling on campus hasn’t faded—if anything, it has only grown stronger. In many ways, Morales herself has been a big part of that—making Providence College students feel not only welcome, but truly at home.
I first met Morales early in the fall semester of my sophomore year at Providence College. As I was leaving for class, she was in the lobby of my dorm taking out the trash. I couldn’t believe how easily she lifted the heavy bags—this petite woman was handling them like it was nothing. I held the door open for her, and she gave me a smile that melted my heart. Over time, I saw her around the building more often, and before long, we formed a bond that has lasted ever since. In those first few months of getting to know Morales, I was struggling with homesickness, but her kindness—and her hugs, always the tightest and most comforting—made everything feel a little easier. Now, as a senior, I always make an effort to stop by our old dorm, where Morales continues to work. Whenever I need one of her hugs, I know exactly where to go.
As our friendship grew, Morales began sharing stories—and many photos—of her family. It was wonderful to hear about and see the people who have always been the center of her world. While some of Morales’s family members still live overseas—in Cape Verde and throughout Europe, including Portugal, Spain, and France—many of them have followed in her footsteps. They, too, came to the United States and have since built families of their own. She now has 19 grandkids, three great-granddaughters, and countless nieces and nephews. Moralese keeps in touch with everyone in her family. Although she hasn’t seen her siblings or children in more than three years, she calls them often to stay connected. She also makes sure they’re up to date on her own life, frequently posting photos and messages on Facebook. As her family has grown, so has her desire to sacrifice for the people she loves most. Since 2000, Morales has bought her oldest son a car, paid for her niece to go to school in Cape Verde, helped distant relatives with paying their rent, provided sufficient funds for her nephew to have a surgical operation, and has continued to give monthly donations to the church where Zeferino first found work when the two of them arrived in the United States.
When I went to Morales’s house to interview her for this story, I could see very clearly the love she has for her family. Her walls were covered with photos of her kids and grandkids in all stages of their lives. She also had a highchair tucked into the corner of her dining room and baby bottles drying on a dish rack next to her sink. Something else that caught my eye was the hand-drawn pictures hanging up on her fridge—drawings that likely would have been framed and hung up on the walls too if she had any space left. As we spoke, I couldn’t help but ask what her favorite thing about being a mother and grandmother was. Her eyes lit up as she answered, “They changed my life and have brought me so much love.”
Aside from the love she has for her own family, Moralese holds an incredible amount of love for the Friar Family. Though many of her friends and coworkers have come and gone, she has enjoyed every moment of her 34 years at the college. Morales has worked through four PC presidents, seen the campus change dramatically, attended countless basketball games at the AMP, and met thousands of students. “I thank God for it all,” she told me. When I inquired about how her job must be difficult at times, she simply said, “Nothing bothers me. I love to clean. I may not have the strength I once did, but I still love it.” At one point, the topic of retirement came up, and she told me that she had never thought about retiring until a couple of years ago, when her sister mentioned it. “I love my job. I don’t know what I’ll do when I retire,” Morales said. “I want to go to Cape Verde, but not for long. I will miss my grandkids.”
Whether she’s in her work uniform or dressed in her favorite Friars gear, Morales wears both with pride. When I visited her at home for our interview, she greeted me in a gray Friars crewneck—a small reminder of just how much the school means to her.
As our interview ended and I gathered my things to leave, Morales wouldn’t let me go empty-handed—or with an empty stomach. She poured me a glass of orange juice and served slices of her favorite fruit, mango, before handing me two more to take home to my roommates. It was a simple gesture—one she didn’t think twice about—yet it perfectly captured who Morales is: generous, thoughtful, and full of love.