My name is Yair. I have now been coming to our place for four years. I learned a lot from being here but there is something else I would like to talk about that I feel is more important. It is my home and you can all guess what I am referring towards, Our Place. They have been my home since the day I came in. When someone tries to take your home, or throw you out, it is not right and feels wrong. Forget about the fact that I am not going to have my home anymore, let us focus on all the guys who come here. Over all the years that I have been attending, never have I seen less than 30 guys on a given night. This means if Our Place was too close because they are out of money all these kids are going to lose a home, food, warmth, tv, and people who care about us. I asked someone I know for my whole life what Our Place meant to them, I got this: Our Place is my number one. The staff is my parents, the tables here remind me of my dining room table and the other guys here are my siblings. The TV is the family chill spot. I have been in and out of yeshivas, rehabs, and institutions. I have never felt more comfortable than in Our Place. Without Our Place, I am lost in a field with no reason or purpose. When I first walked into Our Place I remember lying to Chaim Glancz and Sonny Perlman that I was 16. I was really 13. I lied because I felt a sense of belonging for the first time and wanted to stay. I am writing this letter for you to read, and not necessarily for you to give Our Place money or pity, but for the world. I believe the world and people can understand what it feels like to lose your home.