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I visited a church where large courtyards and breezeways create a protective haven for a handful of people experiencing homelessness who sleep there each night. Nestled alongside walls in the cold months and in the shade in the summer, the small community seems to find a measure of comfort. By an agreement forged with the church’s leaders, they arrive after the workday ends and leave the next morning before it begins. As they gather their few possessions each day, a church member distributes simple bag lunches to carry with them.

“Find your way back, don’t let this life drive you crazy,” sings Beyoncé. “Find your way back, come back home ’fore the street lights on.”