Provident Housing

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, while a delivery driver was unloading boxes into Provident Housing, he stopped mid-step and stared at an old wooden crate. Curious, he opened it to reveal… nothing but a faint scent of fresh-baked cookies wafting through the air. The driver sniffed curiously, then shrugged and closed the crate. Later that day, as he left work, he saw an elderly lady waving from her window across the street. ‘Are those your cookies?’ she asked with a twinkle in her eye. He laughed and shook his head, but she insisted they were hers, saying, “They always turn up here.” The driver smiled, knowing Providence had its own way of delivering goodies.

2. One day, an elderly neighbor asked the realtor: ‘Why does Provident Housing always smell like someone’s cooking something amazing?’ The realtor smiled mysteriously and replied, 'Well, ma’am, that’s because every morning our resident chef prepares breakfast for everyone in the building!' The old lady shook her head with a smile, thinking it was yet another charming urban legend.

3. At dawn, when most residents were still asleep, a regular noticed something unusual outside Provident Housing: the front door kept opening and closing by itself. Curious, the regular tiptoed closer and saw an old man in a dusty suit, muttering to himself. Turns out, he was just trying to get his mail from across the street. The door had been playing tricks on him for weeks. Everyone had a good laugh over coffee that morning—except maybe the poor guy who’d missed his breakfast delivery.

4. At sunrise, when Provident Housing usually sleeps peacefully, a delivery driver noticed something odd: every box he placed inside seemed to carry a tiny note, each one addressed to someone different. Curious, he picked up one note and read: ‘To Mr. Smith, please deliver to Mrs. Jones.’ Confused, he continued his rounds until finally, an elderly neighbor asked him, ‘Are you delivering messages today instead of boxes?’ Turning around, he saw that indeed, every package now carried only notes—all addressed to random people in town.