It doesn’t take a lot to go from having a roof over your head to being out on the streets. All it might take is one bad choice or simply a cruel twist of fate. My name’s Amber. Until recently, I was living what I thought was the dream life with my husband Louis and our son Allen. We seemed so happy. Then, suddenly, everything changed. “We rushed into things, Amber. I can’t do this anymore!” Louis announced one evening. My heart just sank.
“Louis, you’re kidding, right? You can’t just leave us like that! What about Allen? He’s only two!” I pleaded. “That’s the problem, Amber!” he retorted. “I’m tired of all the responsibilities. I need time for myself. I’ve found someone who gets what I’m going through!” That night, as he walked out, I just fell apart. Once Louis was gone, reality hit me hard. I struggled to find a job while taking care of Allen alone.
Two weeks later, our landlady evicted us as I couldn’t pay the rent, and Social Services took Allen. That night, I was homeless and heartbroken. My baby, my child, was taken away from me. I sold everything I had, including my phone, and that kept me going for a while. Then, the money ran out.
One evening, out in the cold, I remembered my dad’s warnings about Louis. “He’s not right for you,” Dad had said. I wish I’d listened. Desperate to reconnect with him, I decided to buy a phone to call him. I starved myself for a week to save enough to buy a second-hand phone. My tears didn’t stop when I dialed Dad’s number. He arrived quickly. In a hotel room, I poured out my heart about the betrayal and my days on the streets. Dad comforted me.
The next day, Dad and I went to the orphanage to start the paperwork to bring Allen home. Once everything was finalized, Dad took Allen and me to New York. He also hired a private detective to find out where Louis was. It turned out Louis had been cheating on me with his boss’s daughter. When his boss found out the truth — that Louis was married and had abandoned his family — he fired him. Louis ended up living on the streets. It felt like justice was done.
Back home, with my dad and Allen, I felt stronger. Life had knocked me down but taught me resilience. And with Dad’s support, I knew we could face anything ahead. Four months on the streets with my three kids taught me a lot about life’s harshness and the small acts of kindness that can keep hope alive.
We lived in a tent near a gas station, a makeshift home barely shielding us from the cold. It was tough, but we managed to find moments of joy, making the best of it. One chilly morning, as I counted the few coins I had left, I decided to head into the gas station to buy a can of beans — our planned dinner for the evening. Inside, I stumbled upon a scene that jolted my heart. An elderly man stood at the counter, confusion written all over his face. “I’m sorry, young lady, what did you say about the water being funny?” he asked. “I said you don’t have enough money, sir!” the cashier snapped.