Two Years, Seven Months

I was making soup while I cried. My boys were running around behind me, my husband working steadily on his work, and I wanted to throw the pan across the kitchen. “Why does this always happen to us?” I asked. I concentrated on the butter as it melted in the pan, disappearing into a yellowContinue reading “Two Years, Seven Months”

The Reality of Being Poor

I used to hide my money in my socks. It was maybe the year I turned 10. Young enough to still receive mostly gifts on my birthday but also old enough to begin to marvel at finding $5 bills in a card from my grandma. I received some money that year, and I decided theContinue reading “The Reality of Being Poor”