A woman cried when Jonathon Phillips offered to order her a vegetarian pizza.

Another wondered what kind of ulterior motive he had in offering her a place to spend the night and a shower.

But Phillips, 52, said he’s just trying to help in the small way he can when he gives down-on-his-luck people a place to crash on a cot he’s set up on his front porch , enclosed in plastic to keep out the elements.

“Maybe I will make a difference in that person’s life. Maybe they’ll realize there’s someone out there who cares or would listen and help,” Phillips said.

“While they’re sleeping, that’s when they’re most vulnerable because they can be attacked or attacked or robbed. This gives them a safe, dry place to crash. That’s why they call it the shelter crib.”

Providing a place for people to sleep is something Phillips has been doing for about a decade. It started when an old friend showed up at his door, homeless, and asked to crash on his couch for a while. The relationship soured, but eventually he set up a cot on his covered back deck for those who needed it.

Through trial and error, he developed a few rules: no groups or couples, only individuals, and no long-term stays—Phillips allows a night or two.

More recently, he moved the crib to the front porch of his bungalow because he needed the back deck for something else.

Officials estimate that 2,000 people are homeless in London. In a recent survey, 55% of Londoners identified homelessness as the most pressing issue facing the city.

A hot meal, a shower

Phillips has first aid training and a first aid kit, as well as safety equipment such as a fire extinguisher. The Crib is by invitation only, although some people contact it on Facebook.

“I don’t go to the first homeless person I see and say, ‘Come home with me.’ We get to know each other, maybe go to Tim Hortons for coffee, talk, and I ask them if they need a place to stay the night,” Phillips said. “Some people sleep 12, 18 hours.”

A forklift operator by day, Phillips spends his evenings and nights cycling around town with bottles of water and other essentials to hand out to those less fortunate. “If I get an OK vibe from them, I give them the crib. For others, I might give them something to eat or just have a chat.

“I give them a hot meal, I shower, I’ll wash your clothes, you’ll be treated as a human being for the night. People don’t see them. You go down Richmond Row and people just step over them. They don’t realize it’s someone there, some of them just want conversation.

Phillips admits there have been some negative experiences, but they’ve only driven him to offer the crib only to single people and to make sure he’s careful about who he’s giving the crib to.

“Most people have a similar story. You were a recreational drug user and now you’re on the street and you’re addicted, and then there’s those in the pharmaceutical industry who had an accident, they were prescribed an opiate and then there was no aftercare, they were cut off, but a friend he chimed in and said “Oh, I can hook you up, but with something better and cheaper.”

For Phillips, the reward comes from having interesting conversations with people and knowing he’s redeeming what he called “misguided youth.”

“You’re a guest here. People are extremely grateful to have a chance to be normal,” Phillips said. For people he can’t help, he refers them to other services.

Phillips admits that letting strangers sleep on the front porch isn’t for everyone. He’s a big, burly man, so he doesn’t scare easily, he said. But it would be impossible to sit back and watch London’s homelessness crisis deepen without doing something, he said.

“I’ve lost a lot of friends over the last few years to drugs and homelessness.”