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The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/Whittleswhitters on 2025-02-01 22:35:10+00:00.
TIFU by buying clothes for a homeless child
For as long as I could remember, I had wanted to help people struggling with homelessness. It wasn’t just a job to me—it was a calling. I organized annual blanket drives and even dreamed of starting my own nonprofit to support McKinney-Vento children in my kids' school district. So when I landed a job at a small nonprofit helping homeless families find stable housing, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.
Our office was small—just four of us—so every act of service felt personal. One day, we took in a single mother and her three middle-school-aged kids. As I checked in with her, making sure they had everything they needed, she hesitated before mentioning something that broke my heart: her daughter had been wearing the same clothes for three days. They had been couch-surfing for so long that they hadn’t had a chance to do laundry, and their storage unit was too far away to access without money for transportation.
I listened without judgment. I told her I’d reach out to the local Buy Nothing groups to see if the community could help. I let my coworker, Y, know that I’d be out for 30 minutes for my lunch today—maybe a little longer—because I was gathering clothes for the family. If the Buy Nothing group didn’t come through, I planned to check Goodwill.
I anxiously refreshed my posts, waiting for a response. Nothing. The hours ticked by, and still no one offered to help. I couldn’t stand the thought of that little girl waiting any longer. So I went to Goodwill.
And then, like a miracle, I found everything she needed—four pairs of pants, four shirts, new underwear, bras, a warm jacket, and even a pair of shoes. It was rare to find so many good-quality items all at once, and I felt a rush of joy picturing the little girl’s face when she received them.
Back at the office, as I pulled into the parking lot, Y rushed out to meet me. Their first question wasn’t about how I was or even what I had found—it was about how much I had spent.
“Maybe $100 or more, but it was worth it,” I said casually. I’d even grabbed a couple of books for my own kids. I thought that was the end of it.
Inside, I closed my office door and began removing the price tags, thinking about how my own mother would have wanted to approve any gifts before they were given to me. So I called the mom in and asked if she wanted to look over everything first. She had no idea I had purchased them myself—she thought the community had donated them, as I had intended.
When she saw the clothes, she burst into tears.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Please tell the community how grateful I am. My daughter will be able to shower and put on fresh, clean clothes from head to toe.”
She left my office clutching the bags, and I smiled, returning to my work. It felt like a good day. I had helped someone in a way that mattered.
Fifteen minutes later, my phone rang. It was my boss.
“I heard you bought clothes for the new family while you were on your lunch,” she said, her voice sharp.
“Yes,” I replied, confused. “I didn’t get a response from the Buy Nothing group, so I went on my own time. Why does it matter, and how did you hear about it? Aren’t you on vacation?”
Apparently, Y had told their mother—our caseworker, Z, who was still on vacation for 2 more weeks —who then called our boss to report me. My boss, still on vacation as well, wasn’t happy.
“You aren’t allowed to buy things for our families,” she said. “That’s against company policy.”
“What policy?” I asked, baffled. “I didn’t know there was a rule against helping our families.”
“All resources must go through Z,” she snapped. “She decides who gets what.”
“But Z is on vacation for two more weeks,” I pointed out. “What should I do if this happens again?”
She was silent for a moment. “Call me directly,” she finally said. “We’ll talk about this when I’m back.”
I hung up, shaken. I hadn’t broken any rules—at least, none that I was aware of. To be sure, I reached out to the board member who handled HR matters and asked for guidance. He checked and confirmed: no such policy existed.
Relieved, I thought that was the end of it.
Then Monday came. I walked into the office, ready for another day of work, only to be handed a termination notice. My position, they claimed, “didn’t get funded for the year of 2025.” We just got a very very large check that would have funded all of our positions that was unrestricted funding so I knew this was a lie. I knew what this really was. It was retaliation.
I had bought clothes for a homeless child, and for that, I was punished.
The worst part? It wasn’t about the job—I could find another. It was about what this experience did to me. It made me question everything I believed in. It made me afraid to be kind.
TL;DR - TIFU by buying clothes for a homeless child which resulted in me losing my job.
