He never spoke a word.

He stood off in the distance of the long, dark hallway, peeking out from behind a doorway. From his expression, you’d think an alien had entered the home in New York City.

I had just arrived at Good Counsel, a home for women in crisis pregnancies, on a photographic assignment.

As I spoke with the house mother, he stealthily advanced, wondering about me as I was about him — his huge dark eyes pooled with curiosity.

“Now, Tom, this man is here to work. Don’t get in his way,” she lovingly whispered. Her words were as much a hope as they were an instruction.

She knew.

She knew that this attention-starved little boy would become part of my experience, whether I liked it or not. She slowly turned toward me with a sheepish shrug and a wincing smile.

He approached and reached for her hand, which she warmly offered. She repeated her words, which he seemed to ignore as he studied me up and down.

He stopped abruptly, having made some sort of internal decision, grabbed my hand, and led me confidently down the hall.

Never mind that I was on an assignment; that was of no concern of his.

We were off on an adventure — an adventure into a world I had never before seen. And my guide would be a 6-year-old boy named Tom, who didn’t speak.

I was there to photograph the inner life of this place, to better understand the mission of Good Counsel and the women and children they served.

Good Counsel stands in the breech, supporting women, regardless of circumstance, as they navigate motherhood through uncertain and often traumatic circumstances.

Its story began in 1985, when Christopher Bell, a journalism student and a worker at Covenant House in Times Square, which served homeless youth, came face-to-face with a harsh reality: Homeless, pregnant women in dire need of support had no refuge.

The plight of a woman struggling with an unplanned pregnancy compelled him to reach out to his spiritual adviser, Father Benedict Groeschel, a Franciscan priest and psychologist, with a pressing question: “Why isn’t someone doing something about this?”

Motivated by compassion and a shared vision, Father Groeschel pledged his support and, together, they laid the foundation for what would become Good Counsel Homes.

The organization found its first home in a repurposed convent in Hoboken, New Jersey. It opened its doors on March 10, 1985, to provide shelter and guidance to pregnant women in need.

Women like Tom’s mom.

I had learned that Tom, his mom and his soon-to-be-born sister had come from an environment that threatened their very existence, to put it mildly. And Good Counsel was instrumental in supporting them in setting up a new life for themselves.

Meanwhile, Tom pulled me into a large room where two women sat holding their newborn babies. They spoke in short sentences, exchanging glances, frequently laughing. They were at peace. They were safe, and they were joyful. And they were free from the challenges that had led them here.

A scene filled with life.

A scene filled with hope in the promise of a bright future for the moms and their children.

A scene portraying what a second chance looks like …

But I had yet to take a single photograph.

Tom’s curiosity about my cameras was evident.

He’d look at me, stop, and repeatedly look at them.

I handed him a camera — and if a face could break from a smile, that would have been his.

I showed him as best I could which way to point it and the button to push and made sure the strap was firmly wrapped around his neck, and off we went … to the familiar, to his expectant mom, to every place that this silent, 3-foot-tall little boy considered worth photographing.

And that could only mean one thing: These were things that mattered to him. And, apparently, there were a lot of things in that category.

We spent the afternoon taking photographs, and I learned a lot — not only about Good Counsel and those who experienced a new lease on life because of it, but also about a little boy named Tom. 

For example, he stops and smiles for seemingly no reason; when he gets excited, he stomps his foot, and his eyes go wide. 

And he has the personality of an enthusiastic adventurer.

His energy faded as the day wound down, but his smiling eyes remained.

Young eyes that had seen the worst of humanity and yet eyes filled with hope.

It breaks my heart that he had to suffer in his younger days. But he and his mother and sister found safe haven at Good Counsel. And now they have the hope of a better life ahead. Thank God for Good Counsel and places like it. The world is a better place because of them.

I know. Because all there was to know could be found in that little boy’s smile.

LEARN MORE Visit Help.GoodCounselHomes.org. Or follow them on Instagram, Facebook or YouTube.