When Lydia Ares needed someone to help her set a budget, Jayne Sorrels gave advice.

When Ares needed someone to go to church with, Sorrels came along.

When Ares needed a graceful way to tell homeless acquaintances that it wasn't OK to crash at her new apartment, Sorrels was there to drive them to the shelter for the night.

Having a permanent address solves one problem for a homeless person - but it's just the first step.

"It's not enough to get someone the key to an apartment and give them a little furniture," said Jack Bonawitz, an Interfaith Sanctuary volunteer in a new program to help people with this transition. "Circle of Friends will be there for everything that comes later."

Bonawitz is among 10 volunteers committed to helping a few people with tasks that may seem simple - unless you've never done them or haven't done them for a long time: getting electricity hooked up, buying groceries, planning a budget.

The volunteers are diverse - including a retired school principal, a Bureau of Land Management employee, a commercial escrow officer, an artist, a pharmacy tech and others.

"If you're homeless, most of your friends are, too," Bonawitz said. "We want people to resocialize in a healthy way. It might be something as simple as taking a person out for coffee so they can see someone coming in to check their e-mail, someone having a business meeting, or trying to sell something to the shop owner.

"People leaving homelessness need to see how the rest of the world works and socializes."

WEATHERING THE 'GRAY ZONE'

Circle of Friends is the brainchild of Sorrels, Interfaith Sanctuary's director.

In 2006, Sorrels and Roshelle Pederson, volunteer and community shift manager at the shelter, started working with a handful of people leaving the shelter.

Their extended support for one couple included visiting the man in detox every day for nearly two weeks.

"Then we worked like crazy to make sure that when he got out of detox they had a house to go to," Sorrels said.

They helped the couple set up their house with thrift-store finds, then stayed involved with them for ongoing advice.

Sorrels said people who work with the homeless often refer to the time between being on the street and having made a successful transition into the community as the "gray zone."

"I've heard it lasts two years," Sorrels said. "During that time the pull-back to an unhealthy lifestyle is strong. Without ongoing support, a person is likely to lose their footing and return to the streets. ... It all comes down to human relationships."

A SUCCESS STORY

Sorrels started working with Ares, a 68-year-old former nurse with a head of silver hair and a love for reading and Downtown coffee shops, in 2006.

Ares, who was born in the Basque Country and attended St. Joseph's school in Boise, found herself homeless after a run of bad luck: a heart attack at an early age, an unsavory roommate and the loss of three husbands - including one to a drive-by shooting.

Ares spent a year living in the shelter, then got an apartment through El-Ada Community Action Partnership. She's kept that apartment, lived on a budget, and paid her bills on time for three years, thanks in no small measure to Sorrels' support.

"This woman is my rock," Ares said, putting an arm around Sorrels.

She has redrawn her personal boundaries - an important step.

When a homeless person gets an apartment, friends who are still on the streets often look to them for shelter. Guests can anger landlords and endanger leases.

"I have friends in this town who are not my friends," Ares said.

Sorrels has been there to run interference, sometimes packing Ares' friends into her car and driving them to Sanctuary herself if they don't have a place to stay.

"Not everyone understands how hard Lydia is working to keep her home," Sorrels said. "Losing the apartment - we're not going to do that."

Both Bonawitz and Sorrels said great affection grows between volunteers and people in the shelter.

"It starts as logistics and becomes a friendship," Sorrels said.

Ares and Sorrels have become so close that when Sorrels converted to Catholicism, Ares sat in Sorrels' "family" section during the confirmation ceremony at Easter vigil.

Ares spends afternoons writing letters to relatives in the Basque Country and saves money to sample the offerings at local restaurants.

When she was homeless, she copied recipes from magazines people had left behind.

"Lydia said cooking was the thing she missed most when she was in the shelter," Sorrels said.

Ares still has that stack of recipes, and now she has a place to use them.

Anna Webb: 377-6431