The hardest part of being homeless wasn’t the cold or judgment—it was explaining to my kids why dinner was just a granola bar, or why their shoes didn’t fit.
We’d been living on the streets for six weeks after I lost my job and everything spiraled. Then a stray puppy appeared. My daughter named her Clover and took care of her, even when she was hungry herself.
One day, a stranger stopped, pet Clover, and handed me a card: “Family Transition Advocate.” I wasn’t sure if it was real help—but I followed it.
That led us to Ms. Delgado, who offered housing and told me the local mill was reopening. The next morning, I ran into my old supervisor—he helped me land a better job than I’d had before.
Within weeks, we had a small apartment, Clover had a dog bed, and my kids began healing. My daughter started school and shared her snacks with others. My son found his smile again through basketball.
Eventually, we shared our story at a community event. A young mom asked me how we kept going. I told her: “By remembering that love finds a way.”
We still have challenges—but we have a home, hope, and each other.
Kindness, community, and resilience can change everything.