Denise, from Isolation to Hope

“In my storage unit, I was too cold to rest. I wanted a place to lay my head down and sleep. I would wrap up in ten blankets, trying to get warm.”

– Denise

Denise seems to have an endless abundance of joy. She’s a very petite woman in her late 50s with bright eyes and a wide, welcoming smile. She exudes positivity and wields an upbeat personality. Denise had a solid and consistent work history. For 30 years, she worked at a major Chicago company. In 1979, she began a part-time position in the mailroom. During her years on the job, she got promoted twelve times, working her way up to full-time Engineering Clerk. After taking early retirement and giving funds to her son to pay for his college education, Denise felt she needed to return to work to make ends meet. She found a job as a secretary for a moving company. After a few years, that company relocated to Florida. Denise found herself unemployed and alone. Too young for social security but old enough to experience age discrimination when looking for work, she knew she needed help.

Finding a job proved difficult. Denise eventually lost her apartment. She had an outdoor storage space that measured 10 feet by 10 feet in a lot on the south side of Chicago. It held all the items from the apartment she lost, and with nowhere else to live, Denise moved into it. Without any heat and only a few flashlights for light, Denise prayed, read her Bible, and cried a river in that storage unit. Keeping clean was a real challenge. When she tried to wash up in a public restroom, she endured looks and comments from people who seemed to fear or despise her. Her former life was utterly lost.

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Denise stayed in her storage unit for three long years and throughout notoriously harsh Chicago winters. She often rode the public transit system to escape the cold. “I was tired of riding the buses to stay warm, but no one ever robbed me. An angel must have been sitting beside me.” Throughout those years, Denise hid these circumstances from her son, who lived out of state.

Hard-working, sweet, and struggling to survive, Denise had been forced so far out on the margins of society that she couldn’t find her way back. This past January, Denise arrived at Cornerstone. After three years of living alone, one would think that Denise would find sharing a shelter space with 74 other women at Naomi Shelter nearly impossible. Not so! Denise soon began to encourage women younger than herself, giving wisdom and helping to defuse tense situations.

While at Cornerstone, Denise felt that God told her, “I’m giving you the rope, but it’s up to you to grab ahold and pull yourself up.” She did just that. With the help of her case manager, Denise completed security guard training, earned her PERC (Permanent Employment Registration Card), and got a full-time job as a security officer. When speaking about Naomi Shelter staff, Denise said, “They supported me. The case managers got to know me and took time with me. I felt they respected me.”

For the last eight months, Denise has worked full-time as a security officer for a domestic violence shelter that serves women with children. She enjoys her work immensely. The day Denise moved into her apartment, she shouted, “Lord, You have been good to me!” She then sat down and cried tears of gratitude.

Denise’s story is about age discrimination, isolation, and hope. Although she had a solid work history and experience, Denise struggled to find a job which caused her long stretch of homelessness. She sees her arrival at Cornerstone as a turning point in her life. Once she had shelter and support, she climbed out of the situation she was stuck in. We have been blessed by her stay and applaud the employer that saw what we see in Denise – a resilient, enthusiastic, hard-working woman who simply needed a job.

  • Denise Hardy, as told to Beth Nicholls, originally published on November 25, 2015

I hope you enjoyed reading how Denise moved from isolation in her storage unit to hope and opportunity at Cornerstone and beyond. CCO needs your support to continue the critical work of welcoming anyone experiencing homelessness. Please consider donating today. Your gift could transform lives and bring hope to those who need it most. Click here to visit our Donate Page.
Thank you!

  • Beth Nicholls, Cornerstone Community Outreach

Additional Reference: https://www.business2community.com/se/gambling/casino-utan-svensk-licens

Sandra’s Path to Peace

“The path to peace is a lifelong journey. Sometimes you’re on a paved road. 

Sometimes you’re walking on a gravel or dirt road.

 It’s still your journey. It’s not just for a bit of time. It’s for a lifetime.”

Sandra

“My daughter Isabella was only 11 years old when we had the most surreal conversation of her young life. It was a Saturday morning in June of 2021. Secretly, we discussed the abuse we faced daily. We were no longer going to be told we were worthless and substandard. We decided it was time to leave my husband and California behind. Together, we looked at a map of the United States and chose Chicago.

From that moment forward, we quietly and methodically carried out our escape plan. Isabella and I came back from the laundromat with fresh, clean clothes. We folded and placed them carefully into Isabella’s dresser we had emptied earlier. To anyone looking on, it appeared that we were doing regular household chores. Internally, we were fighting a storm of fear mixed with absolute determination as we prepared to go. It was all done in stealth mode, very fast, very ‘hush-hush.’ When my husband left Monday morning, we took the clothes, identification, and precious photos out of Isabella’s dresser and put them into our suitcase. Lisa, Isabella’s beloved teddy bear, came along with us. We were moving halfway across the country, leaving the certainty of pain in California. The uncertainty of the unknown lay ahead. Inwardly, we felt a gentle gust of hope roll over us as the bus carried us away.


I was only seven years old when my mother died. She passed away two days after my youngest sister was born. It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck our family. In a flash, everything changed. I had grown up with abuse from my stepdad. When my mom died, my two older siblings and I were shuffled back and forth between our three aunties’ houses. My three younger siblings, which included my baby sister, were put with their biological grandmother, my stepdad’s mom. She was a violent woman and thought my younger siblings should never see us. We only lived five houses away from each other in a small Mississippi town, but we were a world apart. Sometimes my little brother would sneak over to see us. She would come flying down the road beating him and dragging him all the way home. He just wanted to see us. These memories of fractured relationships have stayed with me. They influenced the decisions that have formed my future. 

Scarcity also played a role in my life. My upbringing was impoverished. Everyone I knew was struggling to get by. I’m not ashamed of my background. I believe it’s what made me want to go into social work. I felt driven to be part of the solution and help others. I worked hard in school and went on to college. I graduated from Mississippi Valley State University with a degree in Social Work. Through college, I learned to set goals and achieve them. My friendships became like family. I began to grow a strong support network and understand its importance. As I worked toward my degree, I could feel the variability and chaos of home replaced by a set routine with some sense of order. I understood that my life experiences could help and benefit others. Little did I know that in the future, the splintered pain of the past would grow into a vast support network for myself, Isabella, and other families with similar experiences.


The Greyhound arrived at the Chicago Station. Isabella and I were free from our life in California. Tired and apprehensive, I held onto the hope that in Chicago, we would find a home where we wouldn’t endure endless criticism and torment. I found a rooming house-type situation on the Southside of Chicago. It was just a bed. No meals. No help. We had to walk several miles to a dollar store to buy food. We had arrived in a food desert. It was tough. I knew we needed to get out of there and find a place that offered us some assistance and practical support. From my phone, I Googled “Homeless Shelter for Families.” Cornerstone popped up, so we got on a train and headed to the north side. Hannah Shelter had space for us! The kitchen had put a few plates of food aside. That night we dined on spaghetti, coleslaw, and chicken. We came hungry, the food was good, and we were glad to have it.

I was 35 when we arrived at Hannah Shelter. Most parents living there were in their early 20s and had younger children. The younger moms came to me for advice. I worked in social services in Los Angeles. I was glad to offer help, encouragement, and resources that could get us on our feet. We were in it together. It felt good to use my education and work experience to help others. 

While living at Cornerstone, I was allowed to train as a Life Coach. The training empowered me to start my own life coaching business, Path2Peace. Subsequently, Chicago Hopes asked me to facilitate parent support groups for the moms at Hannah Shelter. Chicago Hopes (CH) is a non-profit that provides academic support, mentorship, and services to parents and children experiencing homelessness. CH offers these essential services inside Hannah Shelter, so it is accessible for shelter guests. One day, I was meeting with the Family Engagement staff person,  I told her, “Your job is so cool. I would love to have your job.” Then she left! Chicago Hopes offered me the job. That’s how I became the Family Engagement Administrator! They only interviewed me as a formality. The job was always mine. I continue to do parent workshops, but I love my new position. It was another opportunity to uplift young moms recovering from homelessness, poverty, and abuse.

Isabella and I spent this Thanksgiving with my baby sister and my other siblings. My baby sister and I have been talking a lot. We hadn’t had a relationship until last year. Now, we’re making up for lost time! We weren’t able to be sisters before but we’re grown now. We don’t need someone to tell us whether we can talk to each other. Nobody is going to whoop us for behaving like sisters. And that’s what we are. 

Like our first meal at Cornerstone, our first meal in our new home was spaghetti. I felt gratitude and immense pride as we set up our new place, making it a sanctuary filled with love and safety. In that year, we also explored unique experiences together, like discovering beste casino zonder cruks options online. While we indulged in a few games, we were reminded of the excitement in trying something new yet responsibly. After a year in our cozy basement apartment, we managed to move up to another unit in the same building. As we cleaned out the old space, we gave thanks for the shelter it provided, marking a year of new beginnings, growth, and deepening connections.

I recalled the field trip we took to the zoo just a few days before moving from the shelter into our apartment. I felt free at the zoo with the moms and kids from Hannah Shelter. It was a warm summer day, and the sky poured. We all began screaming, laughing, and running in the rain. It seemed like everyone felt a surge of joy and peace at that moment. No matter what we had all been through, we were together. We supported each other through the hard times and the good times, too. I felt like the deluge ended all the pain and mistreatment. It was the end of homelessness and the end of being abused for Isabella and me. It was a perfect way to end it all.”


“She was bent but not broken.

She fainted but did not fail

and rose to the challenge to overcome each obstacle thrown her way.” 

– Shirena Houston, Hannah Shelter Program Manager, when asked to comment about Sandra


“I want to thank my Program Director and Case Manager,

Shirena Houston,

and the Cornerstone Community Outreach staff

for your love and support during one of the lowest moments of my life.”

– Sandra


This true story was written from conversations between Sandra and Beth Nicholls. 

Names have been changed.