Allie on outreach in Caboolture

When Allie first arrived in Caboolture, she was carrying more than bags and a pram. She was carrying the weight of starting again.

“I didn’t know the town,” she said. “I hadn’t been here for a long time, so I didn’t know much about anything. I was just trying to find somewhere to go, someone to talk to, somewhere just to think.”

She came with two small boys one just three, the other only “about 8 months.” A young mum in a new place, raising her children on her own, trying to build a life from the ground up.

“At times, yes, it has been quite lonely and isolating,” she said. “I’ve been a single parent for 17 years it’s had its challenges.”

Those challenges were constant and practical. She remembers navigating life with a double pram, sometimes with no one around to help.

“My eldest would crawl up the stairs and I’d carry a pram up the stairs with a baby in it.”

And yet, she kept going.

“I know that even though it was a struggle, I’ve come out the other side and done a really good job. So I’m proud of myself for that.”

That quiet pride runs through everything Allie shares. A life built not from ease, but from persistence. From showing up, again and again, for her boys.

“I think because it’s been the three of us, we’ve always just been a team,” she said. “We’ve always had that strong loving bond.”

But even in that love, there were moments of deep loneliness.

“You can know a lot of people, but you can still be lonely,” she said.

Allie & Brenton on outreach

It’s a simple truth, but one she returns to often — that loneliness is not always about being alone. It can sit quietly in the background of busy days, especially when life is full of responsibility and there is no one to share the small, ordinary moments with.

“When you come home at nighttime and you just let the kids go to bed, especially when they were much younger, it was very lonely then because you’ve got no one to necessarily talk to or just cuddle, just how’s your day? Talk about things.”

In the middle of that, Allie kept looking for connection. Not something grand, just somewhere to sit, to talk, to be around people. When she first came along to outreach, she didn’t know what to expect. But what she found was simple.

“They were all very friendly and nice,” she said. “And I just got to sit and chat and not have to cook. I could just sit and relax and have a cuppa and have a chat, which was really nice. I just felt at ease.”

So, she came back. Then came again. And then it became something more.

“I was coming weekly,” she said. “I was meeting new people. Finding people to talk to, listening to their stories, having a chat.”

What began as one visit became part of life.

“The boys just enjoyed it so much, we just started coming every week,” she said. “And then it just became a tradition sort of thing. And 15 years later, we’re still here and still loving it.”

Over time, those small moments: a cuppa, a conversation, a familiar face became something steady; something she could rely on.

“Just those little moments where you can just sit and have a chat, have a cuppa, relax, don’t have to think about anything, don’t have to do anything, you can just relax and not have to worry about anything.”

For someone who carries so much, those moments matter. Allie is someone who gives, not just to her family, but to anyone around her who might need it.

“I’ve always been Little Miss Helpful,” she said. “That’s been my nickname since I was 7 years old. I love helping people.”

That instinct shows up everywhere in her life. In the way she supports her mum, in how she raises her boys, and in how she notices others.

Across the community she creates toiletry packs to distribute to those in need and often brings snacks and biscuits to outreach, finding ways to help others where she can.

There are friendships here, too.

Allie speaks warmly about Irene, a fellow Rosies regular. The two often look out for each other preparing food for special occasions like Christmas, sharing what they have, and making sure others feel welcome.

“If I see someone struggling, I’ll just try and help them. Or even if I see someone crying, I’ll ask if they’re alright. I might not be able to help them but the fact that I’ve asked makes them smile because they know someone cares.”

It’s a simple philosophy, but one she lives out every day.

“It might only be a small gesture, but it could make someone’s day,” she said. “If you can change one person’s life a day, or just, you know, in any time, then I think that’s a beautiful thing to do.””

At the heart of that is a longing to feel seen and a determination to make sure others are too.

“No one wants to be lonely,” she said. “I think for a lot of my life I’ve felt like, I’ve been overlooked, unappreciated, overshadowed, like you feel like you don’t matter.”

And yet, she continues to show up for others in exactly the way she has needed herself.

“Sometimes the Rosies people make you feel so comfortable that you can just sit down and they’ll say, ‘how was your day? Or how are you going?’ And, and, and all of a sudden, someone cares.”

“And then you just start talking,” Allie said, “and before you know it, you’ve had a conversation that could have been like 20 minutes, and you just like let it all out and you feel great.”

That is the quiet power of connection. It softens the edges of isolation and reminds people they are not invisible. It creates a space where burdens can be spoken aloud instead of carried alone. Those moments matter more than they seem.

“You come to Rosies, you have a cuppa or a cordial, you have some snacks, you sit down, you talk to people, you enjoy yourself, and you walk away happy.”

After all these years, Allie’s world is still, in many ways, small. Family, for her, has not always been simple. Relationships have shifted over time, and some have been lost along the way.

“I don’t have a good relationship, well any relationship at all, with either of my sisters,” she said.

“I would love to have a big family, but that just wasn’t on the cards. I still have mum and the boys,” she said. “Even though the circle is small you just appreciate what you have.”

But over time, something else has grown alongside that.

“The people here, it feels like a family. So we have like a Rosies family and a gym family, and you know, it just, um, it fills that void a little bit, if you know what I mean. You know, it’s like you don’t feel so alone anymore.”

That feeling of not being alone anymore is what has kept her coming back for 15 years.

Not because everyone’s lives are easy. Not because everyone’s stories are the same. But because family, at its best, is about presence. It is about showing up. It is about being welcomed as you are and having somewhere to return to. It is about familiar faces, shared meals, small kindnesses, laughter, listening, and the relief of not having to explain why you need to sit down for a while.

After years of carrying so much on her own, Allie found something many people spend a lifetime searching for. A place where she could sit. A place where she could talk. A place where she could belong. And, slowly, a place that felt like family – Rosies.

Donate now to ensure patrons like Allie don’t have to go through life alone.