When Thanksgiving rolled around this year, Lisa, 32, did not have the pots and pans in which to cook a meal. Instead, the single mother of three took her kids to celebrate the holiday with relatives of the same man who had physically abused her.
Lisa asked to be identified by a pseudonym out of concern for her safety. She moved in 2009 from Georgia to Michigan, where she made a life for herself and her three kids, working as an assistant manager at a pizza franchise. But she said that an abusive relationship began to take its toll on her life: Lisa lost her job, took out a retraining order against the man, and relocated her family.
"I'm trying to get myself together for the boys," Lisa told HuffPost over the phone.
The task of starting over has not been easy, she said, as she has no family of her own in the state apart from her children. After she relocated, Lisa sought out the services of the South Oakland Shelter in Michigan, through which she and her boys, who are all under the age of 11, were placed in a rotating shelter and assigned to a case manager who has worked with them to rebuild their lives.
Founded in 1985 by seven religious congregations in Oakland County, SOS works with homeless and at-risk individuals and families through a range of emergency and long-term services. The rotating nature of the shelter means that different venues host clients from week to week, and these are often churches, synagogues and one local mosque that open their doors.
"We view ourselves as a faith-fueled and a faith-based agency," SOS Director of Program Development Jenny Poma told HuffPost. "For a lot of our clients, spirituality is a strength and it helps them get through, but it's not a requirement."
The shelter's website says it served 510 individuals in 2013, 83 percent of whom exited into permanent housing and 30 percent of whom exited with employment. In addition, 25 percent of those served reported having experienced domestic violence in their recent past, Poma said.
Lisa was among the 49 percent of shelter clients who were experiencing homelessness for the first time. But she and her children were able to move into their own apartment in recent weeks.
"Things are going great," Lisa said. "We moved into our apartment three weeks ago, and we're getting furniture tomorrow."
Poma said that many first-time shelter visitors like Lisa just need a "jumpstart" to get them back on track.
"The cool thing is that even if we only secure them with one security deposit, they get case management for a whole year," Poma said. "Lisa qualifies for a lot of programs, and it's a matter of getting her connected to those resources."
Now that Lisa has a home, her next task is finding employment -- which may be difficult, given that her youngest is not yet school-aged. The Department of Human Services can help subsidize her childcare costs, Poma said, and SOS has helped Lisa set up a donation page on HandUp, a charitable giving platform that allows people to donate to homeless and low-income individuals.
Lisa said she has raised just over $300 but still has a long way to go before she can buy a car and "become stable again." Part of that effort, beyond just raising funds, entails building a support network.
"I don't have any friends," Lisa said. "It's just me trying to do everything on my own."
Poma reiterated that need for community, and explained that helping clients secure housing and employment is the first step, after which comes the long-term task of helping them develop networks.
"Because [Lisa is] housed, the next step is getting her acclimated to her community," Poma stressed. "Community capital is huge."
When asked what has brought her joy under such difficult circumstances, Lisa responded, "My kids, to see the look on their faces when we moved in [to our apartment.] Seeing them run around freely and happy."
Her oldest son understands that the family's hardships are temporary, Lisa said, and he has been "a trouper" for helping out with the younger kids. With new furniture and an apartment of their own, Lisa said she hopes to spend Christmas at home with her boys.
"We haven't enjoyed Christmas in a while," she said.
Learn more about how you can help Lisa and other SOS clients through their HandUp profiles here.
This story is part of series called 12 Days Of Giving. Huffington Post Impact, Religion and Parents have teamed up to feature stories from 12 families in need over 12 days between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Read more here.
Need help? In the U.S., call 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) for the National Domestic Violence Hotline.
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Before You Go
I used to stay with a friend in the Bronx, but staying with other people never lasts. Finally I just had to sleep on the subway trains. I've slept on trains more times than I can count.
I would sit there and hold onto myself. I didn't want to get robbed of the little bit of stuff that I had. Some nights I would be in the trains, and other than me it would be only males in the car. You'd think, "Man, I don't have nothing to protect me. I have no one to save me." It was scary. You feel like you have to be aware at all times. You are too afraid to go to sleep. It is exhausting. It is really frustrating. You have to put on that hard shell, 'cause if you don't, it is an open window for people to rob you, to bully you.
When you have to go to the bathroom, you have to know which stops have restaurants with bathrooms. And then if you don't have money to get back on the train, you have to beg.
It feels really lonely being by yourself on the trains. It feels like the lowest point in your life. I never thought I would get this low, having no one, with no place to go.
The state put me in a group home. They didn't specialize in LGBT stuff. When people found out I was bisexual and had a girlfriend, I got beat up a lot.
When I was 17 they put me back in an abusive situation in my home. But my father threw me out again right before my 18th birthday.
I met a guy online and told him I was getting thrown out. He told me I could come stay with his family in Michigan. I thought he was my friend. But when I got there, I had to do things I didn't want to do. I had to have sex with him and other people. I said no, but he coerced me to do it. I was an 18-year-old kid. I didn't know what to do.
So I met another guy online and moved in with him. At first it was OK, like it was just us in a relationship, but then he made me have sex with his friends. Basically he was my pimp and would collect off of me. He would beat me up all the time to make me do what he wanted. I had black-and-blues all over my body. After a year of hell. I finally got out of there by threatening to show his family my hospital records.
I figured being with these guys and doing what they wanted was the price I had to pay to keep off the streets. I figured I would go through the same stuff on the streets. But at least I had a warm place to stay.
Don't throw your kids out. Let them stay there and choose their own path. Whether they are queer, lesbian, gay, bisexual, whatever, it doesn't give you the right to throw them out, because what happened to me will probably happen to your kid. I just don't want people to be in my situation.
I was in Ocala, a town in Florida. I would sleep in a community center in a park. It was open all night. About 20 of us homeless kids would sneak in and sleep on the floor. I used my duffel bag as a pillow. There was no kind of shelter for youths in Ocala.
I kept going to high school. I graduated on time when I was 18. My mom always said the most important thing was an education, so I kept going to honor her. I didn't want her to kick my butt in the afterlife.
I kept my schoolbooks in my big, green duffel bag, along with soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant and a few clothes.
The worst nights were when the cops chased us out of the community center. We would scatter and run. On those nights I would hide in an empty wooded lot in the trees and weeds. That was the worst, especially in the summer. I have bad allergies; my eyes would swell up and fill with tears. That was hell.
Now I work as a game advisor in a video store. I get to play all the games! It is the best job. I want to go to college in the next year.
By the time I was 9 I knew I was a girl. When I was 14 I started growing my hair out and would go to a friend's house to change into girls' clothes. My mother was very strict and conservative. When she would find out what I was doing, she would throw me out of our house, for weeks at a time, to teach me a lesson.
I had nowhere to go. There were no shelters in Norfolk. So I would hook up with guys hoping for a place to stay, or find a house party to go to. On nights when I didn't find anyone, I would just walk around town all night. The next day I would fall asleep in class.
For a few months I stayed with a guy. He was 25. He had me stay in his basement. Since I was too young to get a job, the only way I could stay there, the only way I could contribute to the house, was to have sex with him and his friends. They would take turns. In the mornings he would drop me off at school. I was still focused on school.
That was one of the worst things I've been through. I was only 14. I didn't know anything about sex. I knew schoolwork, home, video games, chores.
Then my mom sent me to North Carolina to live with my aunt, who was in the Marines. I didn't want to get on my aunt's bad side. She was very strict, a military girl. I felt I had to close off being trans. It made me feel dead inside, in the core of my soul. It was bad.
All this time I felt that I was the only trans person in the world. I was totally isolated. I didn't know anything about trans. When I was 18 I came to New York City. That was when I met other trans people. That was when my life really started. For 18 years of my life, I felt like everything was a struggle. When I met other trans people, my life really began. That is why I call myself Eighteen.
I tried to start my life over by moving in with my aunt. She lived in the outskirts of Atlanta. But she kept calling me a faggot, and then she threw me out.
I only had $20 and a few clothes in a duffel bag. I had nowhere to go, and no way to get anywhere. So I went into the woods near her house and stayed there for three days, surrounded by snakes, raccoons, mosquitos. I had nothing to eat, nothing to drink. I was so scared and depressed. I didn't think I was going to make it. And I felt like my life wasn't worth living.
Finally I walked out of the woods and collapsed in the street. I was hospitalized for dehydration.
When I got out of the hospital, they put me in a grown men's shelter, but I was only 16. I got into fights every single day I was there; the men kept harassing me and calling me a faggot.
Being homeless is very scary. Not knowing how to get your next meal, not knowing where to shower -- it's really rough. You can't wash your clothes. You don't want to be around people smelling like that. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know where to go. It was too much for me.