Dear Diary,
Today I asked my mother, Mum is there truly nothing left to eat? My voice trembled like a leaf in a gust. My big, hopeful eyes searched for an answer on Emmas face, and the look she gave me hurt more than any hunger could.
No, Andrew theres nothing today, she whispered, pulling me close as if her arms could shield me from the whole world. But perhaps well find something along the way.
I burst into tears. In that instant Emma felt the chill of our house and of the world pressing on her heart. Every day has become a battle for survival, every step a effort not to fall.
Outside everything was grey and weary. The old terraced houses had peeling paint, broken fences, grimy windowseverything looked as exhausted as we felt. By a crooked lamppost stood Victor, an old friend of hers, his gaze empty.
Emma, how much longer can you bear this deprivation? he asked, his voice sour.
As long as Andrew needs me, she replied calmly, though pain rang in her tone. If I give up, hell have no future.
The walk to the market was hard: neighbours gave us sideways looks, children wept from hunger, stray dogs rummaged through bins. At a corner, a shivering little girl in tattered clothing huddled in the cold. Emma stopped, pulled out a few bunches of parsley and a boiled egg. The child sobbed silently, and Emma felt the strangers pain become her own.
Thank you I dont know how to repay you, the girl whispered.
No need. Just look after yourself, Emma said, wiping away a tear.
At the market everyone hurried, buying only the essentials. A cold wind sliced through my thin sweater, and my fingers went numb. Suddenly I saw a piece of paper lying on the ground beneath peoples feet. Emma picked it upan eviction notice. Her heart clenched. If we didnt pay within two days, wed be out on the street.
No we cant lose everything, she whispered, clutching the paper like a last glimmer of hope.
On the way back a neighbour blocked my path.
Emma, you cant keep living here without paying. I cant cover you forever, he said coldly.
I know Im looking for work, trying to earn, she replied.
Do it faster. You must be out by tomorrow.
That evening the cold seeped even through the blanket. Emma held me close to warm me, yet her own body shivered. I fell asleep with tears on my cheeks while she sat in the dark, unable to sleep from fear.
The next day desperation grew unbearable. The landlord threatened to show up at dawn, and we had no money at all. Emma sold everything she could, but the proceeds barely bought a loaf of bread.
Emma, what now? Victor asked, having come to help. Were out of options
Well ask for assistance just hope they dont turn away, she whispered, lowering her eyes.
That night I slept hungry, frozen, drained. I dreamed of a house with no walls and a child reaching for me, his hands never quite touching.
But I didnt give up. The following morning I went looking for workcleaning yards, selling vegetables, helping neighbours with chores. Days melted into fatigue, yet every penny I slipped into a jar of tea coins became a tiny beacon of hope.
I grew beside her, watching. At school the other kids teased me for my threadbare clothes and battered notebooks. Emma taught me to look higher:
Andrew, dont listen to them. A persons worth isnt in what they own, but in what they give.
Years passed. I studied hard, seized every chance. From meagre wages I paid for extra lessons, learned English, mathematics, and stayed up late reading. Emma supported me even when she collapsed from exhaustion.
When I finally won my first academic competition, she wept with joy. It was the first ray of light in a long, dark tunnel. Yet the struggle continued. University fees demanded money, the road demanded strength. I took odd jobs to pay for books, travel, everything I needed.
It was tough: stern lecturers, indifferent strangers, sleepless nights. But I never quit. Each fall taught me to stand taller, unafraid. Meanwhile Emma kept sending parcels, letters, small sumsliving only for me.
Many years later I graduated with honors and earned a scholarship abroad. It hurt to let her go, but my heart whispered, Now youll truly be free.
I returneda different man: confident, strong, successful. I started a company, helped others, but never forgot where I came from.
One afternoon I took my mothers hands.
Mum everything I have is because of you.
Emmas eyes filled with tears.
I was only doing what a mother must, she replied softly.
I handed her the keys to a new homea warm, bright house, free of fear and cold.
Here, Mum, youll never be cold again. This is your home.
She sank into a soft sofa, surveyed the room, and finally felt peace. After so many years of struggle, life finally returned its warmth. In my sons eyes I saw the highest rewardgratitude.
I love you, Mum, I said.
And I love you, son, she smiled. Im prouder of you than anything in the world.
From the ashes of our pain, hope rose. A mothers love didnt just save a childit forged a person. Even in the darkest days it proved that real light lives inside those who never give up.
Lesson learned: when you keep a stiff upper lip and hold on to love, hardship can become the forge of strength.
