Homelessness is a problem that many cities face around the world. Even though governments and organizations are trying to fix it, it’s still a big issue. One Canadian millionaire decided to make a difference in his own town with his money. Here’s his story.
In Fredericton, New Brunswick, Marcel LeBrun, a millionaire entrepreneur, took action to help homeless people in his community. Marcel, who made a lot of money from his successful social media monitoring company, decided to invest $4 million of his own money to build 99 tiny homes for those in need. He didn’t just stop at providing homes; he also created job opportunities with his unique approach. This project is called 12 Neighbours.
After selling his company and gaining a lot of wealth, Marcel wanted to use his money for good. Seeing the homelessness issue in Fredericton, he came up with the idea of a tiny home community to give homeless people a new start. He named his project 12 Neighbours and aimed to build a gated community with 99 homes and an enterprise center. This community offers both housing and job opportunities, giving homeless people a chance to rebuild their lives.
Homelessness is a big issue in New Brunswick, with about 1,600 people experiencing it in a single day last year. In bigger cities like San Francisco, Los Angeles, and New York in the United States, the number of homeless people is much higher. Marcel LeBrun saw a chance to make a difference and decided to help those struggling with homelessness.
Marcel’s project, 12 Neighbours, is not just about building tiny homes. He wants to create a supportive community for people. The tiny homes he’s building are more than just places to stay. They are fully-furnished with kitchens, living areas, bedrooms, and full bathrooms. They even have solar panels on the roofs. Marcel sees himself as a community builder, aiming to provide a better life for those in need.
To make his vision a reality, Marcel LeBrun set up a factory where skilled volunteers help build the tiny homes. Using modern techniques, the factory can produce one tiny home every four business days. Once a home is built, it is carefully placed on concrete blocks to form the foundation of the community.
Marcel believes that owning a home is important because it gives people a sense of responsibility and stability. By allowing people who have experienced homelessness to own their own homes, the 12 Neighbours project aims to empower them and create a supportive community.
Besides providing homes, Marcel LeBrun’s project also focuses on creating job opportunities for the residents. The 12 Neighbours community includes an enterprise center with a coffee bar and a silk printing business, both run by the residents. This helps generate income and encourages residents to interact with the wider community.
Like any big project, 12 Neighbours has faced criticism. Some people think it’s better to reintegrate homeless individuals directly into society rather than keeping them together in one place. However, Marcel understands these concerns and has taken steps to ensure the community is safe and supportive.
Marcel explained, “Building a few homes is just as complicated as building many, and we wanted to make a real impact on homelessness in Fredericton. If we want to make a meaningful difference, we need to build houses. If I take someone who’s been living outside and put them in a luxury apartment, they might not succeed because it’s not their community or environment.”
Marcel LeBrun knows how important safety is, so he has included top security features in the 12 Neighbours community. There are gated entrances and advanced surveillance systems to ensure residents feel safe and protected.
LeBrun mentioned that some residents face challenges when they first move in. He explained, “When someone moves into a house, they might have others trying to take advantage of them. They need to learn what it means to manage their own space and decide who they let in and out.”
One of the main goals of 12 Neighbours is to build a strong sense of community both inside and outside its gates. LeBrun wants to create a place where residents and the people of Fredericton can come together. The community has a coffee bar and a personalized printing business to encourage interaction and understanding.
LeBrun told CBC, “I see myself as a community builder. We’re not just building a small community; we’re helping to make our city better.”
Marcel LeBrun’s project to build 99 tiny homes in Fredericton, New Brunswick, is a great example of using personal success to help others. Through 12 Neighbours, he has not only provided homes for those in need but also created job opportunities and a supportive community. His efforts have given hope to many and inspired others to make a difference.
The 18th Birthday Surprise I Planned for My Stepmom Turned Her World Upside Down
My 18th birthday was a day I’ll never forget, not just because it marked my official transition into adulthood, but because it was the day I planned to reveal a surprise for my stepmom — one that I hoped would change her life in a way she never saw coming.
Have you ever felt like life is one long, unscripted drama, where every scene holds the potential to either break you or forge you into something stronger?
My life’s been a bit like that.
Navigating through the choppy waters of loss and new beginnings, I found myself at the helm of a decision that could either be the most heartwarming episode or a plot twist gone wrong.
My name is Sarah and this is the story of how my entry into adulthood became unforgettable for the most surprising reason.
After my mom passed away when I was just 11, life felt like an endless storm. My dad, lost in his own sea of grief, found a beacon of hope in a new woman and eventually remarried.
That’s how my stepmom, Olivia, came into my life, and she would become much more than just a new face in the house. She became a great source of stability for me, always offering love and support when I needed it.
At first, though, I wasn’t ready for her. I was too angry, too wrapped up in my grief to see her for who she was. I remember the day she moved in — I stayed locked in my room, listening to the muffled sounds of her unpacking, refusing to acknowledge that she was now a part of our lives.
I thought, How could my dad move on so quickly? How could he bring someone new into our home?
But contrary to my fears, Olivia never forced her way in. She gave me space, patiently waiting until I was ready to talk. And when I finally did, she was there, listening without judgment. One night, I had a nightmare about my mom. I woke up sobbing, drenched in sweat. Olivia heard me from the hallway and quietly opened my door.
“Sarah, sweetie, it’s okay. You’re safe,” she whispered as she sat beside me, her hand gently rubbing my back. I didn’t push her away. For the first time, I let her comfort me, and as she held me, I felt a small sliver of warmth amid the grief.
And just like that, Olivia and I became close. She never tried to take my mom’s place but filled our home with a light I thought we’d lost forever. “I’m here for you, always,” she’d tell me, her words a soothing balm for my aching heart.
But life had another curveball waiting. When we lost my dad, the silence in our home was deafening. I remember us sitting in the dimly lit living room, the air heavy with fear and uncertainty.
“I can’t imagine how hard this is for you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I want you to know, I’m here for you. We’re family, no matter what.”
Her words were a lifeline in my sea of despair. “But everyone’s saying you’ll leave… go back to your family,” I mumbled, struggling to hold back tears. “Will I…will I go to an orphanage?”
It wasn’t just my fear of losing her. I’d overheard people whispering at the funeral: speculations about how Olivia would pack up and leave, how she had no reason to stay now that my dad was gone. The idea terrified me. I didn’t want to be alone again.
“No, sweetie. You’re not going anywhere and neither am I. Look at me,” she said, her hand finding mine in the darkness. She then cupped my face, planting a tender kiss on my forehead. “We’ll get through this together.”
For a moment, the heaviness in my chest lifted. Olivia’s presence had always been steady, like an anchor in the storm. She stayed by my side through every awkward family gathering where people looked at us with pity and through every sleepless night where grief threatened to swallow me whole. And slowly, I began to trust that she meant it when she said she wasn’t going anywhere.
And she was right. Despite the whispers and sideways glances from others, she stayed, proving that the bonds of the family we choose are as strong as those we are born into.
On the morning of my 18th birthday, the air was thick with anticipation, not just for the usual celebrations but for a surprise I had been planning for years.
Olivia greeted me with her warm, comforting smile, one that had often brightened my mood since the day she stepped into our lives.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said, handing me a small, beautifully wrapped box. Her eyes sparkled with the love and care that had become her trademark.
I took the box, my hands shaking slightly. I wasn’t nervous about the gift inside — it was the gift I had for her that had my heart racing.
“Thank you,” I replied, my heart swelling with gratitude for this woman who had chosen to stand by me through everything. “I have a surprise for you too, but… you’ll need to pack your things.”
The look of confusion on her face was immediate. “Pack my things?” she echoed, the joy of the moment fading into uncertainty. “Are you… Are you serious?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “I want you to pack your things in the next hour. You’re leaving this house.”
Her laughter, light and disbelieving at first, died down as she saw the seriousness in my eyes. “But why, dear? I thought we were a family…” Her voice trailed off, a hint of despair creeping in.
I could feel my resolve wavering. The way her voice cracked, the pain in her eyes — it was more than I had anticipated. But I couldn’t back down. Not now. Not yet.
“It’s time,” I began, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. “I’ve been planning this since the day Dad died. You are going to another city.”
She sat down at the kitchen table, her hands shaking as she reached for something to steady herself, but her fingers grasped at nothing. Her breath hitched as she whispered, “I don’t understand. What did I do? Why are you sending me away?”
In a moment that felt more like a scene from a movie, I loaded her sparse belongings into the car and drove her to a new destination, all while she sat beside me in a silence that was heavy with confusion and sorrow.
The drive was a long and silent one, filled with unspoken questions and tension. I was the first to talk.
“You didn’t know that my father opened an account in my name when I was a child, where he saved money for my education. Since his death, I’ve also put all my money, from my part-time jobs and gifts, into this account. Now, there’s a large sum.”
Olivia turned to me, a mixture of pain and understanding in her eyes. “I understand. You’re an adult now, you have money and you don’t need me anymore. But why are you sending me so far away? You don’t want to see me at all?”
Her voice cracked, and the words felt like daggers in my chest. I had never imagined this moment would hurt so much.
As we pulled up in front of a quaint, beautiful house, the surprise I had been harboring was finally ready to be unveiled.
“I will be spending some of this money on education,” I continued, pointing to the house. “At an Ivy League university in the city, we’re in now, where I have already been accepted. Do you see this house?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice laden with confusion and a trace of hope.
“I bought this house for you,” I revealed, the tension finally breaking. “There was enough money for everything. Now I will study here and you will live next door. We won’t have to be apart, and if you want, you can go back to our old house at any time, or we can return together after I finish my studies.”
She sat in stunned silence for a long moment, her eyes locked on the house. “You… you bought this for me?” she whispered, her voice shaking.
The tears came then, unbidden and free, marking the moment with an emotional intensity that words could hardly capture. We hugged, our tears mingling, a testament to the depth of our bond and the love that had grown between us over the years.
“I love you, Sarah,” said Olivia, her voice barely a whisper but still audible.
“I love you, too,” I replied, reaching for the house keys in my bag and placing them in her hand.
It was a birthday unlike any other, marked not just by the receiving of gifts, but by the giving of a future, a home, and a promise of continued family, no matter what life might bring.
This was our story, a stepdaughter and her stepmom, navigating the complexities of life together, proving that love, indeed, knows no bounds.
As we stood there, holding onto each other in front of her new home, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I had done it: I had given back to the woman who had given me so much.
For the first time in years, I felt like I could truly breathe, knowing that we had a future, together.
Do you think my surprise was a good one?
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