Life at Our Lady's Inn...

The women who ask for help and shelter are making a big, important and necessary step in stabilizing their lives. Your prayers and support are vital to the life-saving and life-changing mission of Our Lady's Inn. Here are some testimonials of growth and gratitude from former Our Lady's Inn residents...

(*not their real names)

Annie* -- Alive and Well

"I was in a very toxic and severely abusive relationship 18 years ago. At that time, I had a 15-month-old son and was three months pregnant. I feared for my safety, as well as the safety of my son and my unborn child. So, I gathered some large trash bags and stuffed them with my and my son's important belongings, and then went to the nearest payphone to call Our Lady's Inn. I do not remember how I acquired the number.

When I dialed Our Lady's Inn, which was located in a former convent on Julia Street in Soulard (a neighborhood in St. Louis City, Missouri) back then, Rebecca Ponder picked up the phone. She said they were full, but she sent a cab for us, anyhow. Upon arriving at Our Lady's Inn, I was told that they converted a large storage closet to make room for my son and me! My son and I stayed ar Our Lady's Inn for six months. During this time, I attended stress classes, budgeting classes and talked to a lawyer about a divorce. They also helped me to get housing. And I met a resident there with whom I am still friends to this day! How else has Our Lady's Inn impacted my life? I got divorced from that abusive man. A few years later, I met and married a loving and caring man.

This summer of 2008, I will celebrate 11 years of being happily married! My "baby" boy Anthony* will be 20 in November and is a sophomore at an area college. The child I was pregnant with became my daughter, who is now a senior in high school. I was able to live out my passion and taught preschool-aged children for ten years. Without the available "storage room" at Our Lady's Inn, none of the blessings in my life would have been possible!"

Your support saves lives...

A Thank You from "Margie*"

-- a Former Our Lady's Inn Resident

"For me, Our Lady's Inn was home for several months. My beautiful little girl was born healthy; she weighed almost eight pounds! If it weren't for Our Lady's Inn, this precious little girl would probably not be alive or she would have been born very sick and addicted...

I am a recovering heroin addict and Our Lady's Inn gave me a stable environment where I was able to stay clean and take car eof myself during my pregnancy. I learned to eat right and take my prenatal vitamins and to stay focused on the health of my baby, rather than getting high. When my family learned that I was pregnant, they kicked me out of the house, but told me I could move back in with them if I would abort my pregnancy. They even offered to go with me and pay for an abortion. I had no place to go, so I stayed in a house where drugs were being used and sold out of, until one day I was told about Our Lady's Inn. So, I called Our Lady's Inn and they helped me get into drug treatment. When I completed the drug recovery program, there was a room waiting for me at Our Lady's Inn.

And, now, here I am, months later, clean, healthy with an absolutely perfect baby girl. Also, during the time I stayed ar Our Lady's Inn, God miraculously healed the relationship between me and my family and now my family adores the baby they, at one time, didn't want me to have. Our Lady's Inn saves lives everyday. Its doors are open through the financial support of generous people, like yourselves, who believe in the mission of Our Lady's Inn enough to help. I can't express how grateful I am to hold my beautiful baby in my arms and thank God for His gift of life!"

"I've Come a Long Way!"
(From Pia* in her Christmas letter to Our Lady's Inn)

As we were putting up our Christmas tree, my kids pulled out a wooden angel ornament and my youngest asked me where I got it. A flood of memories came rushing back. I told him that it was an ornament that I received when I was living at Our Lady’s Inn when I was pregnant with him...

I miss you all especially this time of year. I look back to where I was this time, 6 years ago, and I realize that I have come a long way, but it was only because Our Lady’s Inn was there to help me learn to stand on my own two feet again, to learn to believe again, to learn to be thankful for everything. And I am, I am truly thankful for Our Lady’s Inn and all of the wonderful people who are involved, because without all of your kindness, love and support I wouldn’t be sitting here in my nice apartment, with my dog sleeping at my feet, wrapping Christmas presents (that I bought myself!!! -- they weren't donated!) sending my love to you! I know I have said it before, and will say it again and again, THANK YOU!!! For everything!

"At Our Lady’s Inn, I learned what being a mother and a woman and a child of God is really about." By Terry*

The one thing I can say is: Our Lady’s Inn changed my life. It gave me a lot of hope for myself, as well as for my kids. We spent a lot of time being homeless. We were homeless for 2 years before we came to Our Lady’s Inn. I learned a lot of very positive things while staying at the “Inn”…they offered me life skills. I cried to (the staff) for a long time. I’m blessed! Our Lady’s Inn brought me blessings…made me be a woman that I thought that I could never be. I would never have thought that I’m going to be chef, or be able to own my own home someday. At Our Lady’s Inn, I learned what being a mother and a woman and a child of God is really about. When I walked through the doors (of Our Lady’s Inn), I knew that’s where I was supposed to be. My life has so totally changed. To be in the midst of Our Lady’s Inn is the best thing that any of you guys could ever do. I’m grateful for the many positive people at Our Lady's Inn!

The following story was penned by former client Ashley*, for a writing class she took at a local school:

"Good Morning, Ladies! This is your early morning wake up call! It's time to get up and do your morning chores. And ladies...don't forget to stop by the office to tell Beth your plans for the day."

The booming voice slips under the locked door of my room and buzzes in my ear. I clutch my pillow in protest to the idea of facing reality. I try to catch the last bits of my dream, but it's too late. Signaling surrender with a shudder of my eyelids, a gray haze filters through my lashes until my room comes into focus. After nearly five months of waking up in this bed, I am starting to feel at home within these four walls. As is my ritual, I pull my comforter up to my chin as eyes confirm the safety of my surroundings. The room is fairly small-I'd estimate 7 by 10 feet- but the size feels comfortable to me.

The only window, to the right of my bed, lets in just enough light to give the room a cool, electric feeling, like that of a rainy day. Below the window, there is a wooden desk, which came with the room. It's a little worn, but it does the job. On the edge closest to the window, my little friend Igby swims around to greet me. I envy the simplicity of his world: small clear bowl, blue rocks, and clean water. Some mornings I toy with the idea of joining him just for the day, but then who would do my chores?

My chores! I almost forgot! I lurch forward, attempting to sit upright, but heaviness in my core anchors me to the mattress. That's when the reality of my life sinks in. Now I am wide awake. I am sure you think I have been locked up or institutionalized for some reason and that is how I ended up here.The truth is that I have chosen to call this place home. Outside of my bedroom door lays an L-shaped hallway with twenty-five doors, just like mine. Behind those doors lie twenty-five girls, just like me. I am seven months pregnant and homeless. My residence is "Our Lady's Inn".

Once a convent, it has been converted into an institution that is set up to house single, pregnant women, ages eighteen and up, and their children. Those who are in need are given the opportunity to live here rent-free until they have the means to move on. Our Lady's Inn is not just a shelter, however; it is a self-improvement program. In order to live here, you have to accept the established rules and guidelines. Girls in the house are expected to complete their daily chores, attend mandatory meals, and be in by curfew. We are also asked to be present at the nightly classes, instructions used to educate mothers on such things as childbirth, parenting skills, organization and budgeting.

Though at times exhausting and suffocating, it is the structure of the program in the house that gives us the opportunity to grow. And it all starts with the morning chores. After my first failed attempt to get out of bed, I try rolling sideways. Smiling at my success, I sit up and rest my swollen feet on the floor. I place my hands on my belly and stare at the empty crib at the foot of my bed. It is set up as though he will be arriving any day, even though he isn't due for another two months. The dark wood of the crib stands out in contrast to the light hues of the room. I think that's appropriate because it is the reason behind my occupancy.

Above the crib is a picture frame stuffed with memories of my friends from college. The photos produce mixed emotions for me. I think of the times we've shared in the past and what they will miss of the future. A tiny heartbeat meets up with my fingertips, a little reminder of why I am here. That in mind, I do my best to fight gravity and rise to my feet. My pelvis begins to ache as the weight of my child sinks into the frame of my hips. Shifting my weight back and forth, I shuffle over to the sink beside the door. A round face stares out from the mirror. I squint to see if it resembles me, but am disrupted by a light tap on the door. I open it, just a crack, to find two big brown eyes looking up at me. It's my little friend Lawrence from across the hall. He babbles something inaudible and reaches for my hand. I step into the hall with him. Monica, his mother, smiles at me and grabs his other hand as we march together down the hall. The previous serenity of my room is in the past. From now on, it is every woman for herself.

The attitude is thick in the halls. Each girl I pass has a mood all of her own. Some come off as being defensive and angry, others just seem sad. But the truth behind it all is that we are all afraid. None of us know what the future holds; all we are sure of is the path that led us here. Most of the girls that live here have struggled for a long time and this is not their first time in a place like this. For that reason alone, I stand out around here. One look at me and most can tell that I haven't come from financial hardship;I have created it for myself. I have been given many opportunities to succeed and chosen not to. The new girls look at me with sideways glances wondering, "How did she end up here?" Most girls are blinded by the lightness of my skin and cannot always see that I am no different from them. But eventually we all learn that no matter where we came from, we have all ended up in the same place.

Bypassing ladies that are sweeping stairs and bleaching sills, we round the staircase, and are greeted by the smell of fresh pancakes. I have decided that my chores will have to wait. Breakfast is being served and I am feeding two. We try to dodge the morning buzz in the front office, where the girls receive their medicine and dictate their plans. The secretary scurries to mark off names as the girls shout out their completed chores. Making right towards the dining room, we pass the heat of the kitchen. The steel room is full of ladies cleaning their dishes and shining the counters. Walking past the phone alcoves, I can't help but pick up part of the conversations.

Katrina scolds her boyfriend for not calling. Kathy cries to come home. We finally reach the dining room, and I take a deep breath before entering. Oversized tables replicate down the long room. The noise level becomes overwhelming, as the room is filled with the screams of hungry children and frustrated moms. Over that, you can hear the ladies laughing at another girl who has dropped her plate. About ten kids rush up to me yelling, "Sweet Pea! Sweet Pea!" , which is the nickname I've adopted.

Eventually, I make it through the crowd to the serving table. "What can I getcha?" Evelyn, the cook, is the matriarch of our home. Older in years, she possesses a sort of silver grace. It is like she has seen it all and understands what we are going through. She piles my plate with blueberry pancakes and gives me a wink. I weave through the crowd until I get to the back table. Lisa and Monica have already started eating, so I quietly pull up a chair. Once I'm seated, I exhale and contemplate what I had to go through just to get here-just to sit down and eat breakfast.

Living in a homeless shelter seems like a "no man's land" for so many. But this is my reality. I often wonder how I ended up here, but the truth is that I am glad I did. Our Lady's Inn has given me the chance to live a fuller life. I have made the decision to raise a child on my own. Without their support, it would not be a possibility for me to do so. I have learned the most important lesson here: sometimes you just have to do things the hard way just to get it done. That is how it is done here. This house is run by doing one chore at a time. The ladies in my home are not welfare moms. They are warriors fighting daily to keep themselves and their families alive. Just like me, they wake up every day, face reality and march through it with their heads held high. In time, everyone leaves and moves on, but it is the house that still stands as a symbol of the humility and strength that resides in Our Lady's Inn.

Christmas Adopt-A-Family Project

An annual giving program to bless the Our Lady's Inn current and former residents

with gifts for Christmas. Please contact Jennifer Reinbold in St. Louis 314-351-4590

or Chris Wood in St. Charles 636-398-5375 for details.