When someone messaged us on Facebook about a neighbor in need, we didn’t yet know the story waiting for us just a few streets away. What we did know was this: a mom and her two boys were living in an apartment with no furniture. And we had to find a way to help.
That neighbor introduced us to Happy, a single mother of two sons, ages 14 and 8. Her youngest is nonverbal and on the spectrum. After fleeing a domestic violence situation, Happy had secured housing for her family, but with no vehicle, no income, and two boys who required her full attention and homeschooling, furniture had remained out of reach. She had reached out to local programs for help but they all required her to pick the items up herself. That was impossible.
When we first stepped into her apartment, it was quiet, clean, and heartbreakingly bare. A broken-down couch someone had discarded sat in the living room. In the bedrooms, inflatable pool floats served as beds. There was no table. No chairs. One pot. One pan. A few pieces of silverware. Clothing was folded in careful stacks on the floor organized with pride, despite the lack of dressers. And yet… she greeted us with a warm smile and an offer of water and snacks. She had so little, but was still ready to share what she had.
That visit stayed with us.
Just two days later, we returned—this time with everything she needed to turn her apartment into a home. We brought real beds for her and her boys. Dressers. A kitchen table and chairs. Pots and pans. Silverware. A couch. A TV and a stand. Plates and bowls. Little things that mean everything.
The moment was joyful—but not just for her. As we unloaded and brought items into the apartment, neighborhood kids began to gather. Her door stayed open, kids came and went, laughter echoed through the space. We quickly realized this woman wasn’t just building a home for her boys, she was holding space for the entire community around her.
She told us she always kept snacks on hand for the neighborhood children—some of whom she said had even less than she did. That wasn’t said in pity, it was said in love. Her presence was calm, open, kind. Her gratitude never wavered. And when we pointed out repairs she should ask the landlord to address, she confided in us: “I didn’t want to say anything. I was afraid that if anyone saw we didn’t have beds or furniture, someone might come take my kids.”
Let that sit with you.
That fear, the fear of asking for help because it might bring more harm than hope is exactly why Furnishing JOY exists. We don’t just bring furniture. We bring peace of mind. We bring dignity. We bring stability. And we bring a message every family deserves to hear: “You are safe here. And you’re not alone.”
We’ve helped many families. But Happy stayed with us. She changed us.
Her name, so fitting, felt like a message all its own. Despite all she’d endured, she smiled. She gave. She loved. She welcomed others in.
We were so moved by her spirit, her resilience, and the joy she shared with her community that we named one of our mascots after her.
Her name is Happy. And now, ours is too.
If you’d like to support families like Happy’s, please consider donating furniture, time, or resources to Furnishing JOY. Because behind every empty apartment is a story—and sometimes, that story just needs a little JOY to feel like home.
