Six weeks ago, I had a normal life—a job at a restaurant, a modest apartment, and two kids who felt safe. Now, we’re sleeping on my sister’s couch, with only a puppy named Hope reminding us to keep going.
It all started when I lost my job without warning. My savings dried up fast, and soon we couldn’t pay rent. With nowhere to turn, I told my kids we were “going on an adventure,” but the truth was—our lives were falling apart.
One night, sleeping in the car at a gas station, my son Milo found a puppy abandoned in a box. I wanted to say no—we had nothing. But when I saw how much it lifted my children’s spirits, I knew we had to keep her. Milo named her Hope, and it stuck.
Out of options, I made the hardest call of my life—to my estranged sister, Renee, who I hadn’t spoken to in years. Miraculously, she said yes.
Living under her roof wasn’t easy. I felt like a burden. But slowly, I found part-time work as a pet sitter—thanks to Hope. Renee helped me budget, save, and rebuild from the ground up.
Eventually, I moved my kids and Hope into a small apartment. We’re still healing. But I’ve learned that sometimes, losing everything leads you to what truly matters.