Felicia Mitchell did not become homeless through a series of wrong choices. She was not a lazy mom who did not want to work. She was not a careless person who put herself in a bad situation. She was a 35-year-old mother from Chicago, raising two daughters, working hard, and doing what so many parents do every day: stretching a paycheck as far as it could go and believing that if she kept going, things would work out. Then, the day before Christmas, she broke her foot. And because the injury did not happen on the job, she was let go. This was after 9 years of loyal service. Suddenly, the income she depended on was gone. She had already been living paycheck to paycheck, and without that one check, everything fell apart. This is how she and her daughters came to Primo.

It wasn’t an easy transition. Felicia recalled the confusion that her daughters felt entering the shelter and the difficulty that came with making sure they were still able to be kids in a highly stressful situation. She said, “Even though it was storming outside, I wanted to make sure my children didn’t get wet.” Her immense love for them shows up in ordinary moments. Whether she’s at Walmart letting them pick out a small treat or packing snacks for a quiet day at the park, it’s their joy that fills her. “I don’t want them to go out into the world looking for love. I will pour it into them.”

At Primo, Felicia did not stay still. Shortly after arriving, she went to a plasma donation center to earn quick money, because every little bit helped. While she was there, she noticed the person preparing to draw her blood and became curious about the work. When she learned it was called phlebotomy, something clicked. The next time she returned to Primo, she asked whether there were any opportunities to learn the field herself. Primo helped connect her with a free, accelerated course through Metropolitan Family Services, turning what began as a moment of financial necessity into the first step toward a new career.

During this time, Felicia’s faith played a major role. She recalled attending church regularly and feeling that while she supported her children, God supported her. “I prayed, God, I don’t know if I can remember all this stuff, but I’m gonna do what I can and put the rest in your hands.” It was a hectic time, as Felicia balanced this intense period of studying with her role as a mother. But, through faith and dedication, Felicia passed her national exam with a 98% and was awarded valedictorian of her class. After passing, she went to her car and thanked God, breaking down in relief. It was during this tearful celebration that she received a call from a low-income housing agent. She had just been approved for her own apartment. “I started crying even harder. God was like, you know what? Here you go. Here, here, here. You’re doing what you’re supposed to do, and I’m just gonna give it to you.” When she picked her children up from school that day, she told them, “Come on, we’re going home.”

Even then, rebuilding was not immediate. Having an apartment gave Felicia and her daughters a place to begin again, but it didn’t mean everything was instantly settled. They still needed furniture, stability, and a clear path forward with her new certification. Shortly after moving in, Felicia received a message from the Illinois Department of Human Services. It was regarding a cash assistance lottery that Primo had helped her sign up for. She had won $6,500.

The money didn’t solve everything, but it gave her room to breathe and helped her continue building a life outside of crisis. Around that same time, another door opened. Felicia was hired as a phlebotomy intern and later offered to train professionally, giving her the chance to grow in the field she had worked so hard to enter. Today, she is a phlebotomy instructor herself.

Felicia’s dreams now are practical and expansive at the same time. She is working on her credit, saving what she can, and thinking about homeownership, life insurance, tuition accounts, and long-term stability for her daughters. She wants them to have what she did not, freedom to dream beyond survival. If one of them wants to be an astronaut, she says they will go to the planetarium every day. If they want to study abroad, she will encourage them to go, knowing they can leave and live fully because their mother will still be there.

Felicia’s story disproves easy assumptions. It shows that homelessness can happen to a mother who worked for years, loved her children fiercely, and was doing her best before life shifted under her feet. It shows that support can open doors, and that dignity remains even in displacement. Most of all, it shows the power of a mother determined to keep her children dry in the storm.

When Felicia described what home means to her, she said one word: safety. Safety for her body, her mind, and her soul. When asked if she feels safe now, she said, “I never really thought about it. . .” Then paused as a beautiful moment of realization set in. “Actually, yes. I am safe. Wow.” In the silence hung the weight of all she had been carrying and was finally able to release. With relief and gratitude, she repeated quietly to herself, “I am safe.”