One afternoon, my mom called from work asking for food—she hadn’t had lunch. We had little at home, but my sister and I made a small salad and took it to her. At work, she was with her coworker, Danika, who also hadn’t eaten. Without hesitation, my mom split the salad in half. That night, my sister and I finished the last piece of bread at home.
It made me notice more—my mom skipping meals, the duct tape on her shoes. She worked two part-time jobs, and we all quietly adapted. Then came a call from Mireya, starting a support group for single parents—thanks to Danika’s referral. At the library, there was free food, resources, and hope.
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