'If I didn't have this, I believe I would be dead'
SEATTLE -- The designer luggage is gone. Brandi Lambert, 35, now stuffs what little she owns into a big, black garbage bag.
"This is homelessness," she says. "We carry our things in garbage bags. I went from flying all over the country to carrying my stuff in garbage bags."
Lambert has lived on the streets for more than two years. She lost her home, her SUV and her son.
Lambert says she ran a successful multi-million dollar business that was thriving. But she couldn't keep up with the pressure and demands and started using crystal meth. She eventually switched to cocaine, spending a $40,000 commission on drugs.
She no longer lives in that nice house. Instead she sleeps on a single mattress surrounded by 40 other homeless women. And she's happy to be off the streets.
"I saw things that scarred my soul," Lambert says.
The Noel House operates six shelters, houses 100 women every night, and feeds 200.
But it just suffered a heavy blow when donations from one foundation dropped by $10,000. That foundation switched its focus to education and family programs, and Noel House no longer meets the donation criteria.
The budget hit comes a year after the shelter already braced for rough times by cutting staff and shelter hours. If the non-profit can't come up with more money it could have to cut shelter hours even more.
"Worse comes to worse, we'd have to cut one of our shelters at least one night a week," says Program Director Eileen McComb. "That means 30 more women out on the street without a safe place to sleep."
The thought of losing her warm meals and bed frightens Robin Promitis, who has lived on the streets for ten years. She fled an abusive relationship and says she didn't seek treatment for her mental issues until she found Noel House.
"I would have to go back out there and I can't see myself after being here a year-and-a-half having to go backwards," Promitis says.
Lambert doesn't want to go back to where she bottomed out, either. "If I didn't have this, I believe I would be dead right now."
Lambert says she regularly sees bruised and battered women at the shelter.
"They stay out all night, they're scared," she says. "They do things, anything just to be able to be in a room, including putting themselves in danger."
Lambert found more than a safe place to sleep at Noel House. She's now clean and preparing to move into her own apartment.
And her 15-year-old son is speaking to her again. He made her show him one year's worth of hospital drug tests before he'd let her in the front door. She'd passed all of them.
And today she's packed her garbage bag inside a blue duffel. She's catching a bus to Federal Way, and for the first time in three years, her family is welcoming her home for the holiday weekend.
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If you'd like to help Noel House go to NoelHouse.org
"This is homelessness," she says. "We carry our things in garbage bags. I went from flying all over the country to carrying my stuff in garbage bags."
Lambert has lived on the streets for more than two years. She lost her home, her SUV and her son.
Lambert says she ran a successful multi-million dollar business that was thriving. But she couldn't keep up with the pressure and demands and started using crystal meth. She eventually switched to cocaine, spending a $40,000 commission on drugs.
She no longer lives in that nice house. Instead she sleeps on a single mattress surrounded by 40 other homeless women. And she's happy to be off the streets.
"I saw things that scarred my soul," Lambert says.
The Noel House operates six shelters, houses 100 women every night, and feeds 200.
But it just suffered a heavy blow when donations from one foundation dropped by $10,000. That foundation switched its focus to education and family programs, and Noel House no longer meets the donation criteria.
The budget hit comes a year after the shelter already braced for rough times by cutting staff and shelter hours. If the non-profit can't come up with more money it could have to cut shelter hours even more.
"Worse comes to worse, we'd have to cut one of our shelters at least one night a week," says Program Director Eileen McComb. "That means 30 more women out on the street without a safe place to sleep."
The thought of losing her warm meals and bed frightens Robin Promitis, who has lived on the streets for ten years. She fled an abusive relationship and says she didn't seek treatment for her mental issues until she found Noel House.
"I would have to go back out there and I can't see myself after being here a year-and-a-half having to go backwards," Promitis says.
Lambert doesn't want to go back to where she bottomed out, either. "If I didn't have this, I believe I would be dead right now."
Lambert says she regularly sees bruised and battered women at the shelter.
"They stay out all night, they're scared," she says. "They do things, anything just to be able to be in a room, including putting themselves in danger."
Lambert found more than a safe place to sleep at Noel House. She's now clean and preparing to move into her own apartment.
And her 15-year-old son is speaking to her again. He made her show him one year's worth of hospital drug tests before he'd let her in the front door. She'd passed all of them.
And today she's packed her garbage bag inside a blue duffel. She's catching a bus to Federal Way, and for the first time in three years, her family is welcoming her home for the holiday weekend.
---
If you'd like to help Noel House go to NoelHouse.org