The First Night
The first night of April was clear, cold, and windy. My phone rang at 830 p.m. A community member in our Neighbor Care network called to see if we could help her friend who had suddenly lost his housing. She said he was in Middlebury, scared and unsure what to do.
I called him and learned he got a ride to Middlebury from an outlying town, hoping to sleep in the homeless shelter. But when he arrived, the shelter was full, and its seasonal overflow program closed the day before. As with all the shelters in Vermont, most of the time these days, there was no room for him inside. So he was given a tent and a used sleeping bag (donated by some kind, housed community member) because he would have to sleep outside. He had no money, no vehicle, and no idea where he could safely sleep outside.
I drove down and met up with the young man, giving him some cold-weather provisions, a grocery card, and some cash. We sat and talked for a while. He spoke with the accent of a long line of native Vermonters, and the details of his story were also all too familiar. A story of stoicism in the face of loss. Clinging to family until they were gone. A good man trying to see through the brokenness of a past he was not responsible for just to find some hope and discern a future. There in the clear, cold night. His first night of homelessness in Vermont.
