In an exclusive, personal essay published Thursday morning on Fox News’ digital platform, the wife of Senator Josh Hawley (R-MO)  recounted the frightening moments when she and her newborn were home alone in Washington, D.C., and endured a mob of ‘protesters’ converging on them in the night.

But that wasn’t the entire story Erin Hawley sought to tell America’s families — not by a longshot.

Readers may remember that Sen. Hawley was one of several conservative lawmakers who spoke up in early January against the tally of the 2020 electoral college votes, for which he was vilified by left-aligned entities; not only was his upcoming book contract canceled, but the Democrat chair of the Homeland Security committee and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY) all but called the senator the leader of a terrorist gang, as RedState’s own Jeff Charles wrote.

Before any of those events happened, on January 4, the Hawley home was visited by what could charitibly be called unannounced visitors. My colleague Nick Arama shared some Twitter videos of the crowd in a piece. In this one, you can clearly see and hear the blasting bullhorns and see them trying the doorknob.

Antifa & BLM trespassing onto Senator Hawley's property and knocking on his door in an attempt to intimidate his wife who was home alone. https://t.co/eThBmMU3Ht pic.twitter.com/nU5T2ekE5y

— Kitty UnShackled (AKA Boomhauer) 🍇 (@KBoomhauer) January 5, 2021

Here’s part of how the new mom described the experience, in her own words:

I was home alone with my then seven-week-old daughter. We were curled up on a basement couch shamelessly watching a Hallmark movie (my husband and boys were back home in Missouri) when the sound of angry voices drowned out the TV.

I walked upstairs to see approximately 20 protestors standing in front of our house shouting through bullhorns. I stepped outside, baby in arms, and asked them to leave, saying we had a newborn and neighbors. They refused, and I took Abbi back downstairs.

She continued:

I heard yelling and pounding and came back upstairs to see at least three large men at my door blocking my entire front porch and shouting “Come out, come out” into their bullhorns.

It took fifteen minutes for police to arrive, which, she added parathetically, “seems like a long time when you are alone with a baby. It would have been interminable were my young boys home.”

Police let the “mostly peaceful” protesters know they were breaking the law: “a noise ordinance, graffiti on public property, and a state law against residential picketing.” And it was another half-hour, Erin wrote, before they left the property.

She went on to speak about the First Amendment and the right to assemble. And some people might end their story there — with a spotlight on themselves and that nighttime terror. But that’s not who Erin Hawley is, because she wrote this beautiful tribute to the people who lifted the Hawley family up in their lowest moment:

But all is not lost. When I am tempted to fear who might show up at our door, or what the media might say, I’ll remember the friend who left home so quickly to be with Abbi and me during the protest that she showed up in socks.

I’ll remember the friends who scrubbed our sidewalk in the cold time and again so that our boys would not see the nasty inscriptions.

I’ll remember the neighbor who offered her home as a refuge during the protest and the neighbor who took pictures of a serial vandal’s license plates.

I’ll remember the sweet family – their house already chock full of kiddos – who let us stay with them until our house was safe, and the dozens of friends – of all political persuasions – who reached out to say they were thinking of us. And I will call to mind the words of one neighbor who, though he might not agree on policy, reminded me that we are all Americans.

Like any mom, she also shared that her biggest concern is for her boys, opening her heart to give a glimpse of one lingering casualty of these “protests” — childhood innocence:

A few nights ago, one of our boys woke up from a bad dream. A “bad man” had entered the house, he said. I assured him that he was safe, deeply loved, and that Jesus was more powerful than any force of darkness. I prayed that God would protect him and he eventually drifted off to sleep.

I know many of you have had similar conversations with your own children. As parents, we strive to keep our children safe, to love and protect them, and to preserve their childhood.

A sentiment every parent, whatever their political bent, can relate to.