06/11/2026
As a little girl, she never imagined she would only own one pair of shoes.
Little girls dream big. There is always visions of being a princess or riding horses on a big farm. That was how Lily always thought her life would be.
Growing up her soft heart for animals guided thoughts of becoming a veterinarian. How in the world has she managed to reduce her life down to a worn out back pack, a bicycle, and finding random places in the woods downtown? She was deep in thought of all this as she was drifting off to sleep that night searching for the little dipper in the dark night sky.
The plans she had for her life had not come anywhere near true. After a failed marriage, repeated job losses, a family that accused her of flying off the deep end, she left it all behind and hit the road.
The streets were scary at first, not knowing where to go, who to trust, or how to even feed oneself without access to a stove. As each day passed, she gained more and more confidence that she could manage this life. Days went by and so did the weeks, then months.
Eating everyday at the Bread of Life, going to the Sharing House to take a shower and get fresh clothes became part of her routine. She had learned a new way of life.
Lilly was somehow able to keep a phone that could connect to wifi enabling her to remain in contact with a few close family members. They encouraged her to stop living this way.
Nearing 8 months now being out on her own, she was growing weary. She was tired of not having a wardrobe to pick clothes from other than what new arrivals had been put out for the day, and the one pair of tennis shoes that she had long ago when she used to jog for fun.
She decided the next day was going to be different. She was ready to make another change.
Lily made the call to Blue Ridge Health that referred her to The Haven. With her intake now scheduled, she became fearful of staying with other people. She called to cancel the intake, but staff encouraged her to come see where she would be going before she changed her mind completely.
During her tour, she was relieved to see that it was more like home rather than what she had seen in the movies. She felt the staff cared for her and were invested in her well being.
Within a week, she met with the case manager, and got a plan together of what she would be working on in the weeks ahead. This included applying for housing, employment, and making an appointment with the therapist.
Lily settled into shelter life cautiously. She kept mostly to herself at first, unsure whether she belonged there or whether she would end up disappointing everyone again.
The case manager helped her put together a plan. They worked on housing applications. They searched for employment opportunities. She attended her therapy appointment, though she almost didn't go.
For the first time in a long time, Lily allowed herself to imagine that maybe things could be different.
A few weeks later, she found a job.
It wasn't glamorous, but it was a paycheck. She bought a few things she needed and began to rebuild small pieces of her confidence. The future seemed a little less impossible.
But old habits have a way of following us.
The job never offered enough hours to meet the income requirements for housing programs. The stress mounted.
Relationships with coworkers became strained. Misunderstandings turned into arguments. Before long, Lily found herself unemployed once again.
The disappointment felt familiar.
The staff encouraged her to stay, regroup, and try again. They reminded her that setbacks didn't erase the progress she had made.
But Lily had spent years learning how to leave.
So she packed her backpack, loaded what little she owned onto her bicycle, and rode away.
Tonight, she finds herself once again staring up at the night sky.
The Little Dipper hangs above her just as it did months ago.
She wonders what tomorrow will bring.
Maybe the Sharing House will have clothes that fit her. Maybe someone will have donated a pair of size 11 shoes. The pair she's wearing now are worn thin, stained with mud from weeks of rain, and barely holding together.
She pulls her jacket tighter and closes her eyes.
Not every story we encounter has a happy ending.
At least not yet.
Sometimes people aren't ready.
Sometimes the wounds run deeper than a job can fix, deeper than a bed can solve, deeper than a case plan can heal.
Sometimes people leave before they discover what they are capable of becoming.
But that doesn't mean the story is over.
Maybe somewhere along the way a seed was planted.
Maybe she remembers the staff member who listened without judgment. Maybe she remembers having a bed of her own. Maybe she remembers that there were people who believed she was worth fighting for, even when she wasn't sure herself.
And maybe one day, when she's tired of carrying everything alone, she'll make the call again.
We'll be here.
Because hope isn't found only in the success stories.
Sometimes hope is simply leaving the light on for someone until they're ready to come back.
"Inspired by a true story. Certain details have been changed and fictionalized to protect privacy."
