I’m Catherine, 32, a single mom to 13-year-old twin girls. People see our comfortable life in Willow Brook and assume I’ve always had it together. They don’t see the scared 18-year-old I once was, with two newborns and nowhere to go.
One evening, while settling in after work, I noticed a red minivan parked across the street—odd, since it never moved. Weeks passed, and my curiosity grew. Then, one sleepless night, I went for a walk and heard a baby crying inside the van. When I approached, a young woman, Albina, cracked the door open, holding her infant daughter, Kelly. She begged me not to call anyone.
I saw myself in her eyes—tired, scared, trying her best. I brought her and Kelly inside, offering warmth and a meal, just for the night. She told me they’d been living in the van for a month. She made baby clothes to get by, but it wasn’t enough. She feared losing her daughter.
I told her the truth: I’d been her once. Alone, homeless, and rescued by a kind woman named Ms. Iris who gave me a job, shelter, and a second chance. Now, it was my turn.
My daughters, Phoebe and Chloe, were shocked to learn we had once lived in our car. But they understood why we were helping Albina and Kelly. And we did. Albina moved in temporarily. I helped her launch an online store for her baby clothes. “Albina’s Little Blessings” is now a growing business with employees and national orders.
That van is gone. Albina and Kelly have their own apartment now. But I still glance at that spot across the street, where a single act of compassion changed all our lives.
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