I spent yesterday afternoon helping a neighbor and her two kids move from here in Buttcrack, MS, to an even tinier community about 90 minutes away. It was a brief but intimate glimpse into how freakin exhausting it is to be a single mother living in poverty. I hope she's going to be okay in her new digs and can get back on her feet.
The minute I laid eyes on her trailer, the single saddest one-bedroom trailer I have ever laid eyes on in my entire life, I almost said: "Look, come live with me. This will not do." But truthfully, I don't have room for three more people, and she wanted more than anything to be in her own space, no matter how run down. I don't think she would have accepted the offer, even if I had been able to make it.
So today I am very, very aware of the bedrock of privilege that gives me the life I am living.
Speaking of Honour: Watching “The Kohistan Story”
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