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
She sweeps, mops, washes, cooks, wipes runny noses, dries tears, runs errands, finds backpacks, mittens, and hats. She schedules the family schedule, organizes, and does the picking up and dropping off. She works, listens, and mediates, and does so much more than all that. Life comes at her from all directions, but she is patient … More good morning, sweet S.B.