They Saw Something in Me That I Didn't See in Myself: A Letter from a former shelter client
I'm not from here. But I sure ended up here.
I was born in Southern Alabama many years ago. My upbringing was tough. Like many people, I did what I had to do to survive. Struggled with alcohol and drug addiction for years. Still do. The funny thing is, there's way more to it than just drug and alcohol addiction; a lifestyle comes with it. You hang around a barbershop long enough, you're gonna get a haircut.
Fast forward to 2005. Three days after Hurricane Katrina hit, I was allowed to load up everything and move to Metairie. Quite frankly, I was looking for a new start, and there was a ton of rebuilding and recovery work in South Louisiana.
Today, I'm haunted when I think about it. Eighty other men had the same opportunity I had three days after Katrina. I was one of the few that took it.
Most of the others are dead.
I never really stopped moving. I moved to Baton Rouge from Metairie and eventually ended up in Lafayette for the promise of work. Some things fell through, and I ended up at St. Joseph Shelter for men. I was out looking for work during the day and sheltering at night.
It's hard to say, but it's true. Miss Tracy saved my life. Hal. Larry. They kept seeing me. They gave me the opportunity to come to get a bunk and started working with me.
They saw something in me that I didn't see in myself.
I ended up being the laundry man for all of the men in the shelter. I volunteered at the front desk to be of service. Just kept doing that until one day it happened. I was told that housing was available for me - a section 8 voucher.
Things started moving. It was hard to believe.
I got my TWIC card to work offshore, which I had wanted for a long time. I moved into the same apartment where I still live to this day. I have a great relationship with my caseworker. I go to church down the street.
I drop in from time to time. I continue to work around the shelter sometimes. I volunteer at the Diner every now and then. From my perspective, having access to the men's shelter is a wonderful opportunity to get started again.
Life is still hard. That is a true story.
I think about my time in the shelter often. When I began this journey, I took a lot of things for granted. I'll be honest with you, I wasn't being humble about it. But the Lord has brought me to my knees. At my worst, I feel like I am one bad choice from losing my housing or even worse. But God has reminded me time and time again that I am His, and He doesn't make mistakes.
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