When Helping Becomes Listening: A Story About Humility and Relationship  

“I just need someone to really hear me.” 

These words, spoken by a mother committed to the Bridge of Hope program, offered a quiet but powerful reminder of what humility looks like in action. 

At Bridge of Hope, we often say that relationships are the heart of our work. But not just any relationships, ones built on mutual respect, trust, and humility. Humility is foundational to how we walk with families facing homelessness. It’s also a posture we must actively practice as we show up for one another in all parts of life. 

Humility is not about thinking less of ourselves, it’s about making space for someone else’s story without placing our own at the center. It’s about staying open and curious instead of decided. In the context of cultural humility, which grounds our work, it also means acknowledging the biases and blind spots we all carry. It invites us to reflect on power, privilege, and the assumptions, especially the well-intentioned ones that shape how we relate to others.  

I think of Susan, a Neighboring Volunteer. Early in her relationship with a mom participating in the Bridge of Hope program, she came in eager to help. She brought job listings, budgeting worksheets, and parenting resources she thought would be useful. But her approach, though sincere, was driven by a desire to fix. 

Then came a moment that changed everything. The mom looked at her and said, “I just need someone to really hear me.” 

That honest reflection gave Susan pause. She realized that her desire to help was unintentionally overshadowing the relationship. Rather than centering the mom’s voice, she had been leading with her own. So, she slowed down. She began asking questions like, “What feels most important to you right now?” and she let the mom take the lead. Over time, trust grew. So did Susan’s understanding of what it truly means to walk alongside someone with humility. 

Guiding families out of homelessness is complex, sacred work. And humility is one of the most essential tools we have. It helps us move beyond saviorism and toward solidarity. It challenges us to listen more, assume less, and remain open to being changed in the process. 

In our own lives, where might humility be inviting us to pause, listen more deeply, or walk more slowly with someone else? When we commit to this kind of presence, transformation happens; not just in others, but in us too.