Inside, Wanda, head of the LINK program, is not happy to see us. She is afraid that we will end up causing harm, instead of helping. She looks at our jewelry, choice of attire, and long hair with distain. It is apparent she has given up beauty a long time ago, submitted to her graying hair and lumped baggy clothing upon her thin frame. The PORT program is designed to provide hope. She seems to have forgotten the definition for the term. The LINK program of Hampton Roads, an agency to formed to help the underprivileged of the area, runs PORT Emergency Homeless Winter Shelter Program. The program runs for twenty consecutive weeks, from November to April. PORT provides services to over 400 local homeless men, women and children.

The program is in operation seven days a week. Locations of the shelter moves on a weekly basis. Local churches sponsor and help staff the program, which provides shelter, dinner and breakfast to the homeless. On an average night, Bob, a LINK employee, estimates that about eighty-some homeless are served

Tonight, they don’t need help at check-in. They don’t need help in the kitchen. They don’t need help in the serving line. They don’t need help.

We are left sitting on the steps of the stage, facing the masses of tables lined in front of us. All their eyes are on us. I’m avoiding them.

Instead, I look towards the one pair that aren’t looking into mine. I cannot keep from going back to this one woman. She has secluded herself from the rest. She sits in a peeling chair in the corner of the room. Apparently no one else has seen her. Others have taken up conversation in front of her. This is what she wants, to be undiscovered. Or is it? Is she just waiting for the right person to discover her? For me, this loner is the least threat.