Client Stories
Britney
The South County Community Services, and the wonderful individuals they employ at their Unhoused Compassion Division, are changing lives! I’d like to give a big “Thank You” to two case managers specifically—Ana Fernandez and Dynasty Lopez. These ladies are top notch! So loving, caring and professional!
Prior to being homeless, I worked with many non-profits to help others, and never have I seen such an extraordinary organization that TRULY know the needs of the homeless.
Showers and laundry services are essential to us feeling “normal,” and looking presentable as we try to get our lives together and re-enter society. A shower can fix ANYTHING!
I’m looking forward to the future, and donating money to the Compassion Center, because I can see that they know who to hire, how to allot funds to essential programs, AND they have a truly “service-hearted” mission.
I want to applaud the Compassion Center for actually being compassionate, and giving, in so many ways!
Thank you for Loving Us!
Brittney
Jessica
More Than Survival: A Story of Healing, Hope, and Giving Back
There was a time when she didn’t know where to go, who to trust, or what the next day would bring. After surviving sexual abuse in foster care, being kidnapped, and enduring verbal attacks that never quite faded, the idea of stability felt like a fantasy. When she landed her first job at Jamba Juice, full of excitement and pride, she came home to find her belongings on the porch—unwanted, unwelcomed, unseen.
The streets offered no map, and no one taught her how to navigate them. She made mistakes—many—and dropped out of high school the day before her last class. All around her, people said she didn’t belong. And eventually, she started to believe them.
“I didn’t understand my trauma, or why I reacted the way I did,” she says now. “I was living in fear, not knowing where to go for help. What I needed more than anything was someone to care.”
Then, she found South County Community Services—and someone who did care: Veronica. “She felt like a mother,” she recalls, voice filled with gratitude. “She didn’t judge me. She listened. She went to my graduation. She cried with me.” For someone who had never known unconditional support, this connection was life-changing.
Over three years, SCCS became more than a resource—it became a foundation. A place to breathe, to heal, to stop surviving and start building. She kept a job. She kept an address. She had a mailbox. “It’s a good feeling not to worry all the time. It’s a safe haven.”
For the first time, she was able to pay for her own babysitter, come off CalFresh and cash aid, open a bank account, buy a car. “I’m learning how to function, how to heal. I don’t have to be in survival mode anymore.”
And now, she gives back. Every Thanksgiving, she cooks meals and delivers them to people living on the streets, just like she once did. With help from her church, she gathers blankets, socks, and clothing—not to give handouts, but to give dignity. “I used to be the one digging through donated clothes. Now I get to be the one passing them out.”
She fears running out of food more than anything. That someone might go hungry when she could have helped. So, there’s always food in her trunk, and always room in her heart. She keeps phone numbers of unhoused neighbors in her contacts, offering them guidance, warmth, and connection to SCCS resources.
“What would I tell a donor? This is your neighbor. We’re supposed to take care of each other.”
Without this support, she knows she could have lost everything. Her child. Her life. Her future.
“But now,” she says, holding back tears, “I get to dream again. I get to be the mom I always wanted to be.”
Francisco
Five years ago, I had an accident at my job that resulted in the need for a hip replacement. It felt as though my wings, hopes, dreams, and entire life had been abruptly halted. Unable to afford my home, I eventually became homeless and resided in my van with my 80-year-old wife, who requires a wheelchair.
South County Community Services, (The Unhoused Compassion Division) discovered me on a garlic farm. Three women from the Center provided us with food, water, clothes, and blankets when we were stressed, desperate, and feeling empty. Having someone extend help made me feel like a member of a family again. I realized I wasn't alone. They offered a spot at their safe park where my wife and I could rest through the night, which we greatly appreciated. I am currently in the process of securing housing, for which I am immensely grateful to the Compassion Center, as I wouldn't have been able to do it without them. With the staff’s support, I achieved my goal of obtaining my green card. Now, I feel empowered to pursue better job opportunities and regain my independence, all thanks to the unwavering support of the the Community Services Unhoused Compassion folks. The door to success has been reopened for me!
— Francisco Perez
Laura
From Shadows to Shelter: Laura's Journey of Resilience and Hope"
For nearly four years, Laura and her partner Carlos lived in the shadows—sleeping in their SUV, carefully tucking away their reality behind forced smiles and whispered prayers. What most never saw was a quiet strength fueled by pain, love, and unwavering determination.
Laura's life began unraveling after her third child was born. Her then-husband, once a stable provider, changed drastically when he began self-medicating with street drugs after his prescriptions were cut off. What followed was a nightmare: 14 years of marriage marred by escalating verbal, physical, and financial abuse. In 2013, Laura was thrown out of the house and into uncertainty.
Still, she fought back. With county assistance, she found an apartment and enrolled full-time in medical assistant school while working part-time. But fate struck again—her school abruptly closed, and she miscarried. The job she had been clinging to let her go due to lifting restrictions post-miscarriage. And just like that, the rent was due, and hope felt out of reach.
Laura and Carlos began living secretly in their SUV, making daily storage trips and using the parking lot of Next Door Solutions for safety at night. Even in homelessness, Laura insisted on dignity—never asking for handouts, always shielding her children and friends from the truth. “The hardest part was pretending we were okay,” she said. “We didn’t even have a bathroom, and yet I had to act like everything was fine.”
Help arrived slowly but surely. Invited to church by nearby congregants, Carlos picked up construction work while Laura continued applying for housing. Eventually, through Next Door and St. Joseph's Center, they received the life-changing call: a housing opportunity in Gilroy—close to Laura's children. After submitting paperwork and navigating a maze of forms, Laura turned a key in the door of her new apartment on April 7, 2020. It was the first true home in nearly five years.
But Laura didn’t stop there. Grateful for the support she received, she turned her pain into purpose. Drawing from past catering experience, she now prepares meals for community events and funerals. She guides women at Next Door, offering advocacy, empathy, and cost-saving legal tips. At St. Joseph's events, she provides childcare, using her training in early childhood development—where she now serves as a program director.
“There’s this belief that homelessness equals addiction,” Laura shared. “But the truth is, it’s about affordability, not drugs.” Tim Davis echoed her words, emphasizing the unseen struggles of single mothers who bear life’s weight in silence.
Thanks to organizations like St. Joseph’s, Laura found more than shelter—she found herself again. And through her story, she helps others believe they, too, can step out of the shadows.