“Homeless and Hungry”: The Sign Held by a Homeless Woman I Took In, Only to Be Kicked Out of My Own Home the Same Day
I never thought a single act of kindness would leave me standing on my own doorstep, locked out of my own home.
It all started that morning when I was driving back from work. The rain was relentless, hammering against my windshield as I stopped at a red light. That’s when I saw her—a frail woman huddled under a thin coat, holding a cardboard sign that read:
“Homeless and Hungry. Please help.”
Something about her struck me. Maybe it was the way she shivered in the cold or the hopelessness in her eyes. Without thinking twice, I pulled over.
“Hey,” I called out, lowering my window. “Do you have anywhere to go?”
She shook her head, looking startled that I had even spoken to her.
“Come with me,” I said. “You can stay at my place until you figure something out.”
She hesitated but then nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Her name was Linda. As we drove, she told me bits of her story—how she lost her job, how her landlord evicted her, how she had no family left. My heart ached for her.
When we reached my house, I made her some hot soup and gave her clean clothes. She was grateful, smiling through tears as she ate.
“You saved me,” she said.
I felt good about my decision—until everything went terribly wrong.
Later that evening, I stepped out to grab some groceries, wanting to stock up on food for both of us. But when I returned, I found the locks changed. My keys wouldn’t turn.
Confused, I knocked. “Linda? It’s me!”
No answer.
I knocked again, harder this time. Footsteps approached, and then I heard her voice, but it was colder now.
“You shouldn’t have left,” she said through the door.
“What? Open the door, Linda!” My heart pounded.
She laughed softly. “It’s my home now.”
I couldn’t believe it. I had taken in a homeless woman, and she had stolen my house in a matter of hours.
Fury surged through me. “I gave you shelter! I helped you!”
“And now I’m helping myself,” she replied.
I called the police, shaking with anger. When they arrived, they discovered Linda had changed the locks and claimed I had “invited” her to stay permanently. It was a legal mess, and they told me I needed to go through the courts to evict her—from my own home!
I spent that night in my car, stunned and betrayed. How could someone take advantage of kindness like that?
But as I sat there, I made a decision. Linda might have won that day, but I wasn’t giving up. My home was mine, and I would fight for it.
I had helped her when she needed it most. Now, I would help myself.
And this time, I wouldn’t be so naive.
