Griego: Wendy discovered beauty of budgeting

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Remember Wendy Wilkins? Single mom, 32 years old, head-over-heels in debt, more familiar than she would have liked with the spare bedrooms and fold-out couches of family members who took her in for as long as they could or until everyone started getting on each other's nerves.

Ringing any bells? She sought help, tried to learn the fundamentals of budgeting from a friendly Christian pastor and his wife, received some assistance from the city and the Denver Rescue Mission in the form of first and last month's rent on a two-bedroom apartment. Some members of the peanut gallery responded by castigating her for her self-admitted lack of discipline, judgment, priorities. She had a manicure! She was overweight! She was drinking a soda! Purchased! From a restaurant! Or maybe a 7-11!

That was almost a year ago. Wendy wasn't hard to find again. She's still living in the same apartment. She still has the same job, a utility worker who lays pipe. Her voice tells me what I want to know before I even ask. It's full of confidence and humor.

"Well, I've just been paying my bills," she says. "I haven't applied for any credit cards, no loans. For the holidays, I used to buy for everyone in the family. This year, I probably spent $200 and I didn't charge anything."

The Wendy I met last year was in a difficult place in her life. Her demeanor was wary, reserved. She was exhausted. She signed up for the program, run by the Denver Rescue Mission as part of a city faith-based initiative, because she wanted to get into an apartment of her own. The program matched her with a sponsoring church - in this case the then brand new, living room chapel of Pastor Sean Adams and his wife, Delonda.

The Adamses met with Wendy regularly for more than four months, going over her finances, talking about the difference between what she wanted and what she needed, encouraging her to set goals for her life and for her son's. And maybe it was just that someone was willing to listen and help, to maintain a relationship with her at a time in her life when she doubted people's ability to be anything but selfish, but something changed for Wendy in those months.

"More than anything, I learned to budget," she says. "I learned to make a plan, to stick with it. Pretty much, getting my priorities straight. You know, before I was, oh, I have to have this purse, these shoes, just not spending money where it should have been spent. But, I haven't been in the mall. I haven't bought my son stuff just because I feel bad that his dad doesn't do what he should. I'm past that. It's been hard. There's been days I didn't think I could do it, and I didn't ever think that I would have the discipline to do it for this long. But, I know now, 'This check is for this. This check is for that.' I map it out and I pay my bills when they are supposed to be paid."

I'm not going to say that I flat out didn't think Wendy could do it, but I had my reservations. I know how hard it is to build a financial house out of ruins, because I'm still struggling to get a grip and I have far fewer obstacles than Wendy. It turns out that since my first interview with her, the Families and Senior Homeless Initiative has helped place 130 homeless families in housing, and though its staff is still finalizing its numbers, Brad Hopkins, the initiative's director, says 83 percent of families that it teamed up with mentors are still in housing a year later. The mentors come from 118 congregations of all faiths, and each contributes what it can to help cover that first and last month's rent.

Wendy's apartment is humble and homey. The living room is small and holds her collection of black figurines: African women and men, black angels with white wings, a black Virgin Mary cradling the body of a black Jesus Christ. She says she hasn't bought anything new for the apartment, though she'd like some kitchen chairs.

"I tell you what, I can sleep better at night. I'm not waking up, thinking, 'How am I going to pay Xcel, how am I going to pay the rent?' I've been sleeping like a baby. And that's a world of difference. I kind of look back now and I'm glad I didn't get Section 8 (subsidized) housing, because I think it might be easy to get dependent on that. I'm thankful I'm pretty much pulling it by myself. I'm thankful that I got to the point where I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel."

"You did a lot better than I did last year," I tell her. Which is the truth - my last New Year's resolution to stick to a budget having been forgotten in a plastic frenzy.

Wendy shakes her head. She is still in debt. Her bill organization system leaves something to be desired, she says, laughing. "I look at it like this," she says. "I'd like to have a new car. I want to get my credit back so that when I do apply one day, they don't laugh at me. But I got to where I don't stress now."

She looks at me and smiles. "And I like it."

griegot@RockyMountainNew.com