“I did the jails, institutions and death. When I say death, I don’t mean physical, but spiritual, emotional.”

Heart surgery forced Debra Oliver to stop using drugs, and she’s been clean for more than five years. She’d spent more than 30 years in addiction, crime and repeated incarceration. Her final sentence, a federal term, became a turning point. “It was a lifesaver. It wasn’t pleasant, but it gave me a break from that lifestyle.”

Arriving in Whitby, Ont., meant starting over again. “I did not even know who ‘Debra’ was anymore, I'd lived under aliases for so long.”

“MORE THAN A PAYCHEQUE”

Debra needed structure to avoid old harmful patterns. “Boredom is my worst enemy,” she says. “I needed something to keep me grounded.”

A friend suggested volunteering.

Debra walked into the Salvation Army thrift store in Whitby and met Brenda Hornby, the store’s manager.

“Before you waste your time,” Debra told her, “I have a court case. I am a recovering addict. I have a past.”

She expected rejection. Instead, Brenda handed her an application.

“There was something genuine about her,” Brenda explains. “It was the honesty. We are here for second chances.”

Debra began volunteering.

“She was here every day,” Brenda continues. “She’s fantastic with customers. She’s open about her story, and that helps those who come through our doors.”

So when a position opened, Brenda did what many employers wouldn’t—and hired her.

Brenda framed Debra’s first pay stub as a gift.

“I still have it,” Debra beams. “I see it every morning. It makes me feel accomplished. It means more than a paycheque.”

A MATTER OF ZEROES

What began as volunteering became something more. Debra found herself surrounded by staff who saw her not as a record, but as a person. She found trust where she had long expected suspicion.

And that trust deepened early.

“One night the till was about $100 short,” Brenda recalls. “I remember her breaking down because she thought we were going to blame her.”

Debra panicked that evening. “My anxiety went through the roof; everyone would assume I took it.”

Brenda’s response: “I knew that a simple mistake had been made.”

They found the error: a small purchase had been entered as $100 instead of $1.

Through a smile, Brenda says, “Never once did I think she took it.”

For Debra, that moment mattered.

“To have people who don’t know me trust me keeps me moving forward.”

“To have people who don’t know me trust me keeps me moving forward.” DEBRA OLIVER

FROM HELPED TO HELPING

Debra’s impact on customers is immediate.

“When someone comes in who reminds me of who I was, I think, What can I do for this person?”

She recalls a homeless man with no ID.

“He had no hope. I told him my story. I showed him there is a way. Now, he has his own apartment.”

Brenda sees the difference.

“When you have someone who has lived that life, it means the world to customers. She understands their struggle in a way I cannot.”

The store has become a quiet community hub where Debra greets everyone warmly.

“I can’t guarantee you’ll find what you’re looking for, but I guarantee you’ll leave with a smile on your face and in your heart,” she says.

“She’s enthusiastic and makes time for everyone,” Brenda says. “Thirty seconds with Debra can change someone’s day.”

“The Salvation Army saved my life,” Debra says. “I couldn’t do any of this without God. He walks with me every day.”

“It is truly a blessing to see God’s grace poured out through our mission and staff,” says Major Mark Dunstan, pastor at The Salvation Army’s Whitby Community Church. “We all deserve a second chance, and Debra and Brenda are a joy to work alongside. They continue to shine for Jesus and give hope to all who come through our doors.”

“I’m going to retire here,” Debra adds. “You’ll have to push me out in a wheelchair.”

Photos: Louis Kyron

Louis Kyron is a CPA with an MBA from the Royal Military College of Canada in Kingston, Ont. He lives in Whitby, Ont., and has two adult children.

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