It was raining heavily outside. I was walking home from work when I noticed a poor woman. She was sitting on the curb, hugging herself. I felt very sorry for her, so I decided to go up to her.
“Let’s go to my place,” I said. “I have a garage. It’s warm there. There’s a toilet and a bed.”
The woman looked at me strangely.
“In the garage?” she asked.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” I quickly added. “Just temporary. Until you come up with something.”
The woman agreed. I settled her on an old camp bed. I brought a blanket, some food, and a spare kettle. When I left, I locked the door to the main house, but not out of fear, more out of habit.
The next day I told my girlfriend about her. She wasn’t thrilled. “You’re too trusting,” she said.
When I returned home the next evening and opened the garage door, I was simply shocked by what I saw. A stranger I sheltered… Continued in the article under the photo 👇👇
I let a homeless woman live in my garage: the next day I opened the garage door and was shocked
Instead of a dark, dusty warehouse, I saw a real home in front of me. The old furniture was put in its place, the floor was washed, there was a knitted bedspread over the bed.
A bunch of dried herbs hung on the wall, as if from a country house. The air smelled of mint and lavender. And in the corner there was a candle and several old photographs. In these photos, I noticed my guest: young, with children, with a man in uniform, with laughter in her eyes.
I let a homeless woman live in my garage: the next day I opened the garage door and was shocked
I didn’t know what to say. Surprise, gratitude and… a strange feeling of warmth were mixed inside me.
— Sorry if I overdid it, — she said, coming out from behind an old cabinet with a mug in her hands. — I just… don’t like chaos. Even if it’s not mine.
— You… you did all this in one day?
— It was boring, — she grinned. — And you gave me shelter. I wanted to repay you in my own way.
I let a homeless woman live in my garage: the next day I opened the garage door and was shocked
I sat down on a chair. Silent. And then I realized: I didn’t feel at home in this house until she came. And until she brought order to it — not so much externally, but spiritually.
