I was born in the Kensington section of Philadelphia, fallen through the cracks of the smoke-screen we call the child welfare system several times, graduated Abraham Lincoln High School, then married a soldier — and boy did I love the army life. I learned then that a faithful army wife was a good army wife, but a faithful army wife who exuded inner strength was a great army wife. When my [then] husband retired, I was like a fish out of water. Though he eased his way into civilian life without issue, such was not the case for me. Skeletons crawled out of my closet, and I felt as if I no longer had a purpose. After a fall from grace, I tried to pick up the broken pieces of myself. It seemed that life was throwing me into one nothingness after another, and I turned to drugs. While homeless in Washington D.C., I fell into drugs again. Deep down inside I knew that was not what I wanted. Afflicted with rheumatoid arthritis, I came home to Philly to seek better medical care. I started selling One Step Away on July 8, 2016, to keep my mind busy, and to have something to wake up for each morning. I originally planned to find housing, but resigned myself to what I thought was my fate. I was literally out there waiting to die, until an angel from my past came along. She pulled me off the street and pointed forward. I began dreaming again, making goals and planning a future, but I still needed a purpose. That was when I decided to become more involved with the paper. It was pretty clear to me that One Step Away offered me a safe venue to work on my goals — a chance to help myself while helping others. One can only have a chance when a chance is given, but a chance can never turn into anything more without the choice to take that chance. Though Grace gave me the chance for housing and hope, One Step Away gave me the chance for financial independence, and a purpose. No matter how bad I am hurting, physically or mentally, I go out and sell my papers of hope. This paper opens up a new door everyday, and can offer the same for anyone willing to give the paper a chance. Whether you need a chance to help others, or a chance to help yourself, this paper has something to offer you. I love street papers, because they are the epitome of chance.