Another Chance and a Turning Point 

September 15, 2014. My first day at Covenant House California. 

I arrived early, nerves and excitement buzzing through me as I stepped into our Hollywood shelter for the first time. The lobby was quiet, dim, and full. Young people were asleep on couches and curled up on the floor. I sat down, unsure where to go, waiting for someone from HR to come find me. 

That’s when I met Ryan. 

He was sitting near me and smiled as I took a seat. I asked what was going on, why everyone was still asleep. He explained that they were “emergency overnights,” young people who couldn’t safely sleep on the street the night before. Then he said something I’ll never forget: 

“Covenant House never turns you away.” 

He introduced himself and told me he’d been here before. Seven times, to be exact. This was his eighth. “I have a meeting today,” he said. “An appeal. I’m going to ask for one more chance. But I don’t know if I’ve used them all up.” 

There I was, fresh to this job, not even clocked in, and already in a conversation that reminded me why I was called to this work. I told him I hoped we’d see each other again. He said the same. 

Weeks passed. I got settled. My office had tall windows and a little door that opened to the courtyard. One day, I heard the familiar notes of “Tears in Heaven” (the Eric Clapton song) on guitar. I walked outside and there was Ryan, sitting on the ground and playing beautifully. He stood up and hugged me. 

“You’re not going to believe it,” he said. “They gave me another chance.” 

That chance turned into many. Ryan shared his story with me over time — a story of pain and resilience. He was from Louisiana, a talented musician, estranged from family after struggling with his identity, and he was battling addiction. But he wanted something better, something different. 

We offered him an internship on-site so he could earn money and stay safe. He came and went, sometimes disappearing for weeks and then returning, ready to try again. One night, I got a call at home from a staff member. Ryan had been beaten up nearby. He was bleeding. One of our team members rushed out to get him. The text I got a little later just said: 

“We got him. He’s eating a second plate of dinner and taking a shower. He’s okay.” 

That was the turning point. He was ready. He entered treatment, then he vanished. No updates. No calls. Silence. 

Three years later, I was working in our Oakland office when my desk phone rang. 

“Ami,” the voice said, “I’ve got someone on the line for you. He says his name is Ryan.” 

I hadn’t heard his name in so long. I held my breath. 

When I answered, his voice was warm, confident, joyful. He told me he was in Mississippi, now three years sober. He was a worship leader and youth pastor at his church, engaged to be married. He wanted me to know he had made it. He told me Covenant House was the first place in his life to give him a second chance without judgment. 

“I just wanted to say thank you,” he said. “To you. To everyone. Please tell them to keep loving young people. Keep giving chances.” 

That phone call changed me. 

It reminded me that our work is long and layered. It’s about grace and grit. And sometimes, it’s about planting seeds we may never see bloom. But every now and then, the garden grows back to show us what is possible.  

Ryan was the first young person I met on my very first day. I tell this story to every new staff member because you never know which interaction, which note, which meal, or which second chance will be the one that helps a young person finally take root. 

And that’s what makes this place different. 

Not just because we house, feed, and support young people. But because we choose to love them, especially when they are at their most vulnerable. Our secret ingredient isn’t services, it is relationships, it is community, it’s family. 

Thank you for being part of that family. Your support doesn’t just provide beds. It provides the sixth, seventh, and eighth chance. It keeps the door open one more night. It keeps the light on until they find their way back home. 

By Ami Rowland, Chief Program Officer, Covenant House California