The Fight For Me: Critical Services

This month, as part of Youth Homelessness ACTION Month, we’re lifting up a new storytelling series.

It’s told across five weeks—five true stories from across our federation—that together capture the arc of what Covenant House really means to our young people.

Each week in November, we’ll spotlight one story on our channels, moving through five stages of a young person’s journey:

Intake. Support. Growth. Independence. Community.

It’s a story in five parts. But really, it’s one story—a single thread of courage, care, and transformation that connects every Covenant House.

My name is Cindi.  

Just a few years ago, I got off a bus in Atlanta with no meds, no money, and no plan.  

The clinic my mom sent me to had promised help, but once I got there, they took me off my medication and made things worse. When they gave up on me, they didn’t call my mom. They just stuck me on a bus. Alone. 

I lit a cigarette just to feel something familiar. That’s when a woman walked up. Said she could help. Said she had a place I could stay. 

She brought me to a tent city under a highway overpass. I didn’t know it at the time, but that’s how traffickers work. They send a woman first, someone who seems safe. Once I was there, the man showed up. 

He tried to pull me into a tent. Told me I was his. That I wasn’t going anywhere. 

And that’s when everything could’ve changed. 

But it didn’t, because someone saw me. 

A van pulled up. It said Covenant House on the side. The person who spotted me wasn’t a stranger. They were part of Covenant House’s Youth Council. A resident. Someone who had lived what I was living. Someone who knew the signs. Someone who once needed rescuing, too. 

They looked at me and said, “She doesn’t belong here.” 

They stepped out of the van and called to me, “we’re with Covenant House. Can we tell you about our services?” 

The man tried to grab me again, but the shelter’s outreach team volunteers ran interference. One of them, Breon, stepped in and held the line. The trafficker shouted threats. Said he’d come for me. Said he’d already taken my ID and money. That he knew where I’d be. 

But I was already in the van. And the young person who called out to me? They looked me in the eyes and said, “You’re safe now. We’ve got you.” 

By the time we reached Covenant House, the staff had a bed ready. Food. A quiet space. A case manager named Jackie, who listened to everything, really listened. 

When she found out my mom had been looking for me, she got to work. I didn’t have ID and couldn’t board a plane. But Jackie wasn’t having that. She called TSA. Got my mom to send documents. Found an agent who understood. She even came to the airport to make sure I boarded safely. 

I’ll never forget how tight I hugged her before that flight. I was still shaking. Still scared. But I knew I had just made it out of something that could’ve broken me forever.