As I stand in my turquoise-hued living room, surrounded by the eclectic treasures and mismatched furniture that Dolly so lovingly collected, I am overcome with gratitude. Not just for the practical ways she saved us—the roof over our heads, the emotional support, the financial stability that allowed me to pursue education and build a career. But for the deeper gift she gave us: the understanding that family is not always biological, that love can be chosen as well as inherited, that kindness offered freely can transform lives in ways that extend far beyond the original gesture.
I think back to the night when Dolly’s purple coat first appeared on my doorstep, and I am reminded of the courage it must have taken for her to approach a stranger like me—a pregnant teenager with no resources and a questionable future. She saw potential where others saw only problems, and she offered sanctuary when we needed it most.
That same courage has defined my life’s work as an educator and community member. Every morning, as I prepare for another day of teaching, I pass the photograph that holds the place of honor on our mantle: Dolly, Leah, and me at my college graduation, all three of us beaming with pride and hope for the future.
I teach my students that their current circumstances don’t determine their future possibilities, that mistakes can be overcome with determination and support, that there are always people willing to help if you’re brave enough to accept assistance. But mostly, I teach them what Dolly taught me: that every person has inherent worth that can’t be diminished by external judgment or temporary difficulties.
Sometimes home isn’t a place you return to—sometimes it’s a place you create with people who choose to love you not despite your flaws and mistakes, but as a complete person deserving of acceptance and support. Sometimes home is turquoise walls and mismatched furniture and the sound of laughter echoing through rooms filled with treasures collected not for their monetary value but for the joy they represent.
As I look around this house that has become my sanctuary, I am reminded of the countless lives that have been touched by Dolly’s kindness: the young teachers who come to us for advice about handling difficult students or navigating workplace politics; the single mothers who stop by for childcare support or simply for the reassurance that comes from talking to someone who understands their challenges; and the teenagers who feel disconnected from their families, finding a place where their struggles are acknowledged without judgment and their potential is recognized despite their mistakes.
Dolly’s legacy lives on through me, just as it will continue to live on in the hearts of all those she touched along the way. And I am grateful for the debt I can repay by passing her kindness forward to the next person who needs to know they matter.