to S.B. on her birthday
We were five weeks into it. My trips on weekends to visit. S.B. was living on Stieber Street. Doing her best. Trying to teach art to kids that didn’t get regular meals, words of encouragement, or hugs. She was raising a two-year-old. By herself. In a neighborhood that was just a step above questionable. The … More to S.B. on her birthday