Dear Diary,
Tonight I whispered to myself, Mum theres truly nothing left to eat today? My voice quivered like a leaf in a brisk wind. My little boys big eyes searched for an answer on my face, and the look he gave me cut deeper than any hunger.
No, Andrew theres nothing, I hushed, pulling him close as if I could shield him from the whole world. Perhaps well find something along the way.
He burst into tears. In that instant I felt the chill of the house and the cold of the world press on my heart. Every day has become a battle for survival, each step a gamble not to collapse.
Outside the streets were grey and weary. Old terraced houses with peeling paint, broken fences, grimy windowseverything looked as exhausted as we feel. By a crooked lamppost stood Victor, an old friend, his gaze empty.
Ethel, how much longer can you bear this want? he asked bitterly.
Only as long as Andrew needs me, I replied, calm on the surface while pain rang in my voice. If I surrender, hell be left without a future.
The walk to the market was hard: neighbours gave us sideways glances, children wailed from hunger, stray dogs rummaged through bins. At a corner a little girl in tattered clothes huddled, shivering with fear. I stopped, handed her a handful of parsley and a boiled egg. She sobbed quietly, and I felt her pain become my own.
Thank you I dont know how to repay you, she whispered.
No need. Just look after yourself, I said, wiping away a tear.
At the market everyone hurried, buying only the essentials. A cold gust sliced through my thin cardigan, my fingers went numb. Suddenly I spotted a crumpled sheet on the ground beneath the crowds feet. I picked it upan eviction notice. My heart clenched. If we dont pay within two days, well be out on the street.
No we cant lose everything, I murmured, clutching the paper like a last sliver of hope.
On the way back a neighbour blocked my path.
Ethel, you cant keep living here without paying. I cant cover you forever, he said coldly.
I know Im looking for work, trying to earn, I replied.
Make it quicker. You ought to be gone by tomorrow.
The nights chill seeped even through the blanket. I held Andrew close to warm him, yet my own body shook. He fell asleep with tears on his cheeks, and I sat in the darkness, unable to sleep for fear.
The next day desperation was unbearable. The landlord threatened to return at dawn, and we had no money at all. I sold what little I could, but the proceeds barely bought a loaf of bread.
Ethel, what now? Victor asked, coming to help. Were out of options
Well ask for aid just hope they dont turn away, I whispered, lowering my eyes.
That night I drifted off hungry, frozen, exhausted. I dreamed of a house with no walls and a child reaching for me, but I could never grasp.
I did not give up. At sunrise I went hunting for workcleaning yards, selling vegetables, sweeping neighbours driveways. Days melted into fatigue, yet every penny I slipped into the old coffee tin felt like a tiny spark of hope.
Andrew grew beside me, watching everything. At school he was teased for his threadbare clothes and battered notebooks. I taught him to look higher:
Andrew, ignore them. A persons worth isnt in what they have, but in what they give.
Years passed. He studied hard, chased every chance. From meagre earnings he paid for extra lessons, learned English, maths, read late into the night. I supported him even when my own legs gave out from weariness.
When he first won an academic competition, I wept with joy. It was the first ray of light after long darkness. Yet the struggle continued. University demanded fees, the road demanded stamina. He took odd jobs to pay for books, travel, everything he needed.
It was tough: stern lecturers, indifferent strangers, sleepless nights. But he never gave up. From each fall he rose, learning not to fear. Meanwhile I kept sending parcels, letters, small sumsliving solely for him.
Time flew. Andrew graduated with honors, earned a scholarship abroad. It hurt to let him go, yet my heart whispered, Now he can truly fly.
He returned years laterdifferent: confident, strong, successful. He founded a company, helped others, but never forgot where he came from.
One afternoon he took my hands in his.
Mum everything I have is because of you, he said.
Tears filled my eyes.
I was only doing what a mother must, I answered softly.
He handed me the keys to a new housewarm, bright, free of fear and cold.
Here, Mum, youll never be chilled again. This is your home.
I sank onto a soft sofa, looked around the room, and finally felt peace. After so many years of fighting, warmth had returned to my life. In my sons eyes I saw the highest rewardgratitude.
I love you, Mum, he whispered.
And I love you, son, I smiled. Im proud of you more than anything in the world.
From the ashes of our pain grew hope. A mothers love did not merely save a childit forged a person. Even in the darkest days it proved that true light lives inside those who never surrender.
