Mum is there really nothing to eat today? I asked softly, my voice trembling like a leaf in a brisk wind. Little Jamess big eyes searched my face for an answer, and the look in his gaze cut deeper than any hunger.
No, James theres nothing, I whispered, pulling him close as if my arms could shield him from the whole world. But maybe well find something on the way.
Tears welled up in his cheeks. In that instant I felt the chill of the house and the cold of the outside tighten around my heart. Every day was a battle for survival, every step a struggle not to fall.
Outside the streets were grey and weary. The old terraced houses showed peeling paint, broken fences, grimy windows all seemed as tired as we were. By a leaning lamppost stood Harold, an old friend, his stare empty.
Rosalind, how long can you endure this poverty? he asked, his tone bitter.
Until James needs me, I replied calmly, though pain rang in my voice. If I give up, hell have no future.
The walk to the market was hard: neighbours gave us sideways looks, children wailed from hunger, stray dogs rummaged through bins. At the corner a shivering little girl in tattered clothes huddled, terrified and cold. I stopped, handed her a few bundles of parsley and a boiled egg. She sobbed silently, 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 my tear.
At the market everyone hurried, buying only the essentials. A sharp wind pierced my thin cardigan, my fingers went numb. Suddenly I spotted a slip of paper on the ground, beneath peoples feet. I picked it up an eviction notice. My heart sank. If the rent wasnt paid within two days, wed be out on the street.
No we cant lose everything, I murmured, clutching the paper like a last hope.
On the way back a neighbour stopped me.
Rosalind, 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 quick. You must be out by tomorrow.
That night the cold seeped even through the blanket. I wrapped James close to warm him, yet my own body shivered. He fell asleep with tears on his cheeks, while I sat in the dark, too frightened to close my eyes.
The next day desperation grew unbearable. The landlord threatened to come early in the morning, and we had no money at all. I sold whatever I could, but the meagre proceeds barely bought a loaf of bread.
Rosalind, what now? Harold asked, having come to help. Were out of options
Well ask for assistance just hope they dont turn away, I whispered, lowering my eyes.
That night I slept hungry, frozen, exhausted. I dreamed of a house with no walls and a child reaching for me, but I could not grasp them.
I didnt give up. At sunrise I went looking for any job cleaning courtyards, selling vegetables, tidying neighbours gardens. Days melted into fatigue, but every penny tossed into a jar from the tea shop was a tiny candle of hope.
James grew beside me, watching everything. At school he was teased for his threadbare clothes and battered notebooks. I taught him to look higher.
James, dont listen to them. A persons worth isnt in what they have, but in what they give.
Years passed. James studied hard, seized every chance. From modest wages he paid extra lessons, learned English, maths, stayed up late reading. I supported him, even when my legs gave way from exhaustion.
When he won his first academic competition, I wept with joy. It was the first ray of light in a long darkness. Yet the fight continued. University fees demanded money, the road required stamina. James took odd jobs to cover books, travel, everything he needed.
It was tough: severe tutors, indifferent strangers, sleepless nights. Still he never quit. Each fall taught him not to fear, to rise again. Meanwhile I kept sending parcels, letters, small sums living solely for him.
Eventually James graduated with honours and earned a scholarship abroad. My heart ached to let him go, but a whisper in my chest said, Now he can soar.
He returned a changed man: confident, strong, successful. He founded a company and helped others, never forgetting where he came from.
One afternoon he took my hands.
Mum everything I have is thanks to you.
Tears filled my eyes.
I only did what a mother must, I replied softly.
He handed me the keys to a new home warm, bright, free of fear and cold.
Here, Mum, youll never be cold again. This is your house.
I sank onto a soft sofa, looked around the room, and felt peace settle over me. After years of struggle, warmth finally returned to our lives. In my sons eyes I saw the highest reward gratitude.
I love you, Mum, James said.
And I love you, son, I answered, smiling. Im proud of you more than anything.
From the ashes of our pain, hope grew. A mothers love didnt just save a child it forged a person. Even in the darkest days it proved that true light lives inside those who never give up.
