In the heart of regional New South Wales, Michelle Bordignon moves quietly through Griffith's streets in her van, delivering hope one piece of furniture at a time.

To dozens of families who have found themselves sleeping in cars or moving into empty flats, she isn't just a volunteer – she's their guardian angel.

"I never set out to become this person," Michelle says with a modest smile, standing amidst neatly folded children's clothes at her latest community sale.

"I just couldn't bear the thought of someone's child sleeping on a bare floor when I had extra beds gathering dust."

What began as simple acts of kindness has blossomed into Griffith Helping Hands, a registered charity that has become a lifeline for the community's most vulnerable.

Every afternoon after finishing her day job, Michelle transforms into a one-woman welfare agency, delivering beds, tables, and dignified beginnings to those starting over.

"Last month, I helped a young mum with three little ones who'd finally secured housing after weeks in their car," Michelle recalls, her eyes softening.

"The joy on those children's faces when they saw actual beds with proper sheets – that's what keeps me going."

The charity's $5 bag sales have become legendary in Griffith. For the price of a coffee, locals in need fill shopping bags with quality clothing, kitchenware, and household essentials.

The modest proceeds fund emergency supplies like nappies for families in crisis.

In a corner of the makeshift shop, volunteer Kerri Bordignon, Michelle's sister-in-law, carefully arranges baby clothes.

"What Michelle never tells you is that she's usually here until midnight sorting donations, then up at dawn delivering furniture before her regular job starts," Kerri confides. "She's unstoppable."

That tireless energy found new purpose after unimaginable tragedy struck in 2019, when Michelle lost her beloved daughter Stella to suicide.

While many might have retreated from the world, Michelle channeled her grief into service.

"Stella had such a beautiful heart," Michelle says softly. "Helping others feels like honoring her memory. I think she'd be proud."

The scale of need in this regional community has grown dramatically in recent months. "By early March this year, I'd already moved 30 beds," Michelle explains.

"Normally I wouldn't reach those numbers until winter. The cost-of-living crisis is pushing more people to the edge than ever before."

Her small van, purchased through a community fundraiser organized by her late friend Gwen Beaton, has become a familiar sight around town.

Beyond the material assistance, Michelle offers something equally precious – dignity.

Every clothing donation is meticulously folded with size labels attached.

Bedding is carefully sorted and marked. Nothing feels like charity; everything feels like care.

"We're all just one bad break away from needing help," Michelle reflects, watching a mother and daughter excitedly selecting books from a donation box.

"Today it's them, tomorrow it could be any of us."

As Griffith faces growing economic pressures, Michelle's immediate challenge is finding a larger space.

Her current shed is bursting at the seams, limiting the number of volunteers who can help sort the mountains of donations.

"The community has been so generous with items," she says. "Now we just need a bit more room to organize it all properly."

As the afternoon winds down and the last customers leave with bulging bags, Michelle begins loading leftover items back into her van.

Tomorrow, she'll do it all again.

"People call me an angel, but I'm just a mum who understands that everyone deserves a safe place to sleep and clothes that make them feel good," she says.

"Sometimes the smallest comforts make the biggest difference."

In a world that often feels divided, Michelle Bordignon reminds us what community truly means – showing up for each other, one van-load of furniture at a time.