“It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.” So starts A Tale of Two Cities.

It’s funny how great writing sticks with you, only to pop up at the most unexpected of moments.

For me, the opening lines of Dickens’ historical novel came to mind while talking to a woman at the Salvation Army Church the other day, and it’s sat with me ever since.

So, with your indulgence and apologies to one of the greatest writers of Victorian times, I’d like to explain why, with “A Tale of Two Alis”.

Both are 46 years of age and have spent time living on the Sunshine Coast just a couple of suburbs apart in Queensland, before now calling Adelaide home.

They both grew up in middle-class families with a rather strict, authoritarian father and were very well looked after.

Each of them studied, one nursing, the other journalism and sociology, and now each have three children of their own.

One Ali has ended up in a stable relationship, a stable job and is now writing these words.

The other ended up living rough on Adelaide streets and if it wasn’t for The Salvation Army, would probably still be there. Or worse.

I met this Ali at Salvation Army headquarters on Pirie Street.

She was upfront, open and forthright.

I immediately warmed to her as she told me her story.

She wed young and had her first baby when she was 18 and another two girls in quickish succession.

The marriage eventually dissolved and so she returned to South Australia, intent on transferring her medical skills and becoming a paramedic.

She had always felt judged and had a PhD in negative self-talk and when she missed out on joining the SA Ambulance Service and had nothing but the detritus of a failed relationship to turn to, she filled that void with ice.

Ali points out that no-one starts taking drugs to become an addict, but she can still remember that first time and, unapologetically, said it was everything she thought she was looking for.

She felt confident.

She thought people liked her and it became her way to make friends.

In reality, it was utter chaos and destruction.

“My demise was very quick”, she said.

“Within three years I lost family, children, house… everything I had worked so hard to get.

“Even though you know it’s very destructive, it gets to the stage where you can’t survive without it and I ended up at the point where I was living on the streets and had nobody.

“You’re always on the go and never settled.

“You couldn’t have many belongings because what you did have would be taken or you pawn it because you had to get your next fix.

“You feel so unwanted and so unvalued and for me, there was so much shame and guilt, it would stop me from asking for help because I knew I had put myself in that position.

“It was my own actions and decisions that had got me in that situation.

“I didn’t want to die but I didn’t want to live either. I was stuck.”

Just as I was stuck for words.

But for a few sliding door moments – a little less support at a vital time, one less true friend, a hasty decision, an abusive partner – anyone could end up needing help, and according to just about every metric, more and more of us are reaching out to organisations like The Salvation Army.

Some of us are living so close to the line, that the loss of one pay cheque, the arrival of one expected bill, a quirk of tragedy, a redundancy could mean the difference between our lives as we know it, and lives we only read about.

Down the road at Hutt St Centre, 25 per cent more people have accessed their essential health and wellbeing services last month, than the year before and a lot of the people walking through the doors are new to homelessness.

The increased cost of living and the rental crisis are at the core of this, and with no end in sight, resources are stretched beyond breaking point at a time it’s hardest to survive on the streets.

Nathan is one of Hutt St Centre’s clients and after losing his house, he spent six months sleeping rough, in parks or wherever he could find shelter.

In warmer weather, he could be found near the Torrens or the beach, but winter was a horrific experience as he tried to escape the rain and wind.

“I spent all of my time trying to find somewhere warm to sleep. I just can’t describe it. It was awful.”

He first went to Hutt St Centre for a meal and was incredibly nervous about asking for help.

“I didn’t think I deserved anything.”

Sound familiar?

I could now tell you about all of the different services that are offered by organisations like these, but underlying all of it, seems to be the desire for the most simple of offerings: connection.

For Nathan and Ali, it’s been the connection to others they were looking for and in a practicable sense it was this connection that ensured they could make the first steps back through food, shelter, warmth and acceptance.

Ali now gives back at The Salvation Army and is well known to the inner-city homeless community of Adelaide.

When she tells someone she knows how they feel, she really does know how they feel.

“I often look up at the mural we have in foyer and it says ‘All to be saved and none to be lost’,” she said.

“Giving back is my life now and my biggest growth has been in serving others.

“Help them see that they are worthy, they deserve love and that everyone deserves connection.”

On that, these two Alis completely agree.

Ali Clarke presents the breakfast show on Mix 102.3. She is a regular columnist for InDaily.

* The Salvation Army Red Shield Appeal runs until June 30. Ali Clarke is an Ambassador for Hutt St Centre.