Poverty

Been there, tried that, threw away the t-shirt.

After the divorce and returning with the kids to Minnesota, it was a struggle to make ends meet. My job didn't pay well, even though I was running the largest branch of the dry cleaners and thus got the largest commission bonuses. Child support was critical. And that's just when it faltered and finally ended. To top it off, I got laid off my job even though I was doing it competently from a wheelchair.

Somebody - possibly at the unemployment office - recommended I apply for food stamps. It was not something that would have occurred to me, but I saw the practicality of it, especially with raising two hollow-legged boys (Steph had a normal appetite), so off I went. I remember little of the experience except for sitting in a chair next to the interviewer's desk, tears pouring down my face. Shame, humiliation, embarrassment - all were contributing. But the case worker totally ignored my tears or my feelings. Either it happened all the time or she was simply unable to deal with them - possibly both.

A few days after I spent the food-stamps, my last child support check arrived. I didn't know then it was the last, just that I was now ineligible for any more food stamps. No matter what happened after that, I wasn't going back. How could I prove I wasn't trying to defraud the government after what happened the first time?

Things didn't improve after that. Christmas was coming and for the first time there was no budget to buy anything for anybody. I don't know how the word got around, but the neighbor across the street appeared one day, saying that if it was OK, her coworkers would like mine to be the family they sponsored this year, since they picked one every year at Christmas. They all contributed, then bought clothing, toys and food for their selected family. And what were the kids' sizes?

Completely overwhelmed, I of course said it was OK. The clothing was nice quality, the 'fridge and cupboards were full for a bit, and we had a traditional Christmas. I wrote a long thank-you letter back, and vowed that should I ever get back on my feet, I'd contribute to other people's Christmases who were less fortunate than I was.

Things did improve. I got a better job, paid off debts, fed and clothed my kids, eventually had a modest house built and put away savings for retirement. Toys for Tots and Salvation Army hear from me every year, as do certain other charities. There are still struggles, of course, but I've managed to find a level that's comfortable. I've been lucky.

I don't remember those times very often these days. When I do think of that generosity, however, it still makes me cry. Whoever you all were, please know that your simple acts are still making a difference!