Johnny came to live with us when he was twelve or thirteen. I loved having my big brother. He was always nice to me. We were a poor family living in a poor neighborhood in the early fifties. We were the last family to get a television set. At the time of this picture there were six of us living in three rooms: a kitchen, a living room, a bedroom. The bedroom was crowded with four army cots. Mary had to share a bedroom with three boys. Mary and Jimmy wet the bed. My mom and dad slept on a hideaway bed in the front room. We were really poor. To keep warm my mother put newspapers between the blankets. The house was heated by a small space heater and a garbage burner. When we had a meal, there were never and left overs. We only had soda pop when my grandmother gave us money. Being poor is not a badge of honor, nor is it a reason to be ashamed. Being poor makes you grateful for what you have and grateful for God. |
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