Eight members of the Kabengele Mici family moved about their home on Palm Sunday — among them six children between the ages of 3 and 21. Church was to begin in less than an hour, and their mother had to leave for work.

But somehow the home was not chaotic.

Grapes were tossed in the air and caught by mouth. Light gymnastics unfolded in the living room. Yet just about everyone was dressed. Nobody was shouting to hurry up, change their shirt or get out of the bathroom.

Samuel Kabengele Mici and Tereze Kalonji were calm as the kids ran around. The Congolese family arrived in north Minneapolis last November through the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program after spending 15 years in a Zimbabwean camp. For once, they have a home of their own. They have jobs, and their kids are safe.

But their minds were back in the camp they left, where their eldest child Vicky remains. They don't know when she can leave.

Vicky, 23, is too old to be claimed as a dependent for resettlement programs. She was supposed to be reunited with the family in January, but her flight was canceled after President Donald Trump issued an executive order that halted all refugee resettlements. It's unclear whether the resettlements will resume.

As his kids roamed about the living room, Samuel became emotional. About Vicky, he said quietly: "She is alone in the camp. I know the camp. It is not good."

'We cry for everyone'

Samuel, 45, and Tereze, 40, overcame a lifetime of challenges to get their family to Minnesota.

Decades of clashes between armed forces in the Democratic Republic of the Congo have resulted in one of the world's most protracted and complex humanitarian crises. More than 7 million Congolese were displaced as of January, according to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees.

About 15 years ago, the conflict took the life of one of Samuel and Tereze's children. They fled to the Tongogara refugee camp in Zimbabwe. Life there wasn't easy, but they had food, shelter and each other. The family grew to nine members.

"If you have a family, every child is strong," Samuel said.

Samuel and Tereze are thankful their children are safer here and access to better education. But being separated from their firstborn is nerve-racking.

The Tongogara camp generally is not safe for a single woman, they said. And they fear Vicky may be in danger from other residents who are jealous that her family is in the United States.

Kudzai Mwapaura, a university lecturer in Zimbabwe who has worked in the Tongogara camp, said essential services there are often stretched thin. He said Trump's decision to pause the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program has had a "profound impact on the lives of those in the camp," creating uncertainty and frustration.

Though it's unclear if the now-dismantled U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) provided direct aid to the Tongogara camp, Mwapaura said the Trump administration's decision to slash aid for refugees affects all global organizations that support refugees.

Samuel and Tereze's tears are not just reserved for their daughter.

"We cry every day," Samuel said. "We cry for Vicky, we cry for everyone."

Challenges come daily

Some family members are skeptical that it will ever be warm in Minnesota, but they survived the winter. Still, the challenges of living here arise daily.

They're astonished at the expense of U.S. life, including their rent. Tereze is still looking for full-time work. Their youngest child still needs day care. There are language barriers. The schools pose a completely new environment for the kids. Transportation is a puzzle.

And it's a difficult time in general for immigrants, as the Trump administration aggressively pursues deportations.

"How they've managed through the challenges is impressive," said Pastor Solomon Akwaka, who preaches at Spirit of the Lord Church in north Minneapolis, where the family attends services.

As Tereze puts it, the family will "just go" — they will carry on.

As the time for church neared Sunday, 21-year-old Dorcas monitored breakfast on the stove. Promise, 5, somersaulted across the couch. Precious, 9, threw grapes across the room to Shecuna, 12, who caught them in his mouth. Frank, 18, listened to music in his room. And 3-year-old Junior skipped, cartwheeled and jumped through the home.

Eventually, they collected their coats and walked to church, where they prayed for Vicky and their family to be whole again.