a green ceramic tile with a diagonal crack, reading "Always Hope"
They’re the only people that accept you when everyone else is sick of seeing you.

I always tell people Prevention Point saved my life because it did.

When Cherry was first living on the streets of Kensington about two years ago, she sought safety in numbers, spending time with a male friend who was also struggling with substance use and homelessness. The man frequently used Prevention Point Philadelphia’s services and often spoke highly of the organization and its outreach workers. Cherry didn’t understand that.  

“I was like, ‘Why do you go there all the time? It’s annoying.’ I gave him a hard time about it,” says Cherry, now 41. “I didn’t understand it.”  

Then one cold day, Cherry’s friend went to Prevention Point for some hot coffee. Those visits soon became routine, and Cherry finally understood.  

“They called me by my name and said, ‘Hey. How’s it going?’ That’s a big deal. They were happy to see (me) and it was like, ‘OK, I’m a person,’” Cherry says. “I didn’t think that anybody would want to help us without some kind of string attached or some kind of conditions.” 

When Cherry needed medicine, she went to Prevention Point. When she wanted to get off the streets and stop using opioids, she went to Prevention Point. Today she can boast 16 months of sobriety, her own apartment, renewed contact with her children, and hope for the future. 

“I always tell people Prevention Point saved my life because it did,” she says. “They sustained us, kept us warm in the winter, fed us when we didn’t have food. They’re the only people that accept you when everyone else is sick of seeing you.” 

Cherry’s high school boyfriend, who she later married, introduced her to drugs. Heroin was the second substance she ever tried and the one she stuck with. The couple lived in Burlington County, NJ, driving to Trenton and Camden to buy drugs. They had three sons who watched both parents struggle with sobriety.  

“I was with him for 20 years. We stuck together, in and out of rehab and jail. Towards the end, I said, ‘We need to separate because when I’m around you, I end up using. That’s the pattern,’” she recalls. “I was clean for six years and he always started to (re-introduce) me to drugs. He didn’t take sobriety seriously.” 

Cherry and her boys moved into her brother’s Philadelphia home. Not long after that, her husband died by accidental overdose. A few months later, Cherry’s brother no longer wanted to share space with the family. He arranged to have the children sent to North Carolina to live with other family members and he threw Cherry out of his house.  

Cherry didn’t know the city, but her husband had once told her that “Kensington and Allegheny was the place to go.” That’s how she ended up there after another unsuccessful stint in rehab. A short time later, she was hospitalized with infections in both legs and both arms. “I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t move,” she recalls. 

The hospital where Cherry had stayed close by, so she had her prescriptions filled at Prevention Point. She now has a counselor there to help her with different challenges. Prevention Point staff helped her file food assistance paperwork and, when she ran out of food early one month, helped her find an alternative. “They know the programs that can fill the gaps,” she says.  

Cherry recently lost her job and is looking for a new one. She’s also trying to find a way to reunite her family. Her sons, ages 19, 16 and 12, remain in North Carolina. Her three-year-old daughter lives in Reading, PA.  

“I saw them at Thanksgiving and they’re so smart,” she says. “They’re getting to be the ages where they don’t need me, but I need them. They’re my cheerleaders.”