Dear Diary,
This morning I heard my little Andrew ask, Mum is there really nothing left to eat today? His voice trembled like a leaf caught in a gale. His big brown eyes searched my face for an answer, and the look he gave me hurt more than any hunger could.
I whispered, No, love, theres nothing left, and wrapped him close, as if my arms could shield us from the whole world. But maybe well find something on the way, I added, trying to sound hopeful.
The tears started streaming down his cheeks, and in that instant the chill of our flat and the coldness of the outside world seemed to tighten around my heart. Every day felt like a battle for survival; each step was a test to keep from falling.
Outside the streets of Manchester were a drab, exhausted grey. Old terraced houses with peeling paint, broken fences, grimy windowseverything looked as worn out as we felt. By a rusted lamppost stood Victor, an old friend, staring vacantly.
Emily, how long can you keep bearing this poverty? he asked bitterly.
Ill endure as long as Andrew needs me, I replied, my voice steady but edged with pain. If I give up, hell be left without any future.
The walk to the market was hard. Neighbours gave us sideways glances, children wailed from hunger, stray dogs scavenged through bins. At a corner, a shivering girl in tattered clothes huddled, terrified and cold. I stopped, handed her a handful of parsley and a boiled egg. She sobbed silently, and I felt her sorrow 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 own tear.
At the market, everyone hurried, buying only the essentials. A biting wind tore through my thin cardigan, and my fingers went numb. Then I spotted a crumpled piece of paper lying at peoples feeta notice of eviction. My chest tightened. If we didnt pay within two days, wed be out on the street.
No we cant lose everything, I muttered, clutching the paper like a last lifeline.
On the way back a neighbour blocked my path.
Emily, you cant keep living here without paying rent. I cant keep covering you forever, he said coldly.
I know Im looking for work, trying to earn, I replied.
Try harder. Youll need to be out by tomorrow, he snapped.
That night the cold seeped even through the blankets. I held Andrew close to warm him, but my own body shivered. He fell asleep with tears on his cheeks, and I sat in the darkness, unable to find sleep for fear.
The next day desperation became unbearable. The landlord threatened to come early in the morning, and we had no money at all. I sold what little I could, but the proceeds barely bought a loaf of bread.
Emily, what now? asked Victor, who had come to help. Weve got nowhere to turn
Well ask for charity just hope they dont turn us away, I whispered, dropping my gaze.
That night I slept hungry, frozen, exhausted. I dreamed of a house without walls and a child reaching for me, but my hands never quite touched.
I didnt give up. At dawn I went out looking for any jobcleaning courtyards, selling vegetables, helping neighbours tidy up. Days melted into fatigue, yet each penny I slipped into the jam jar from the coffee shop was 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 keep his head up:
Andrew, dont listen to them. A persons worth isnt measured by what they have, but by what they give.
Years passed. Andrew studied hard, grabbing every chance. From meagre earnings he paid for extra lessons, learned English, maths, and stayed up late reading. I supported him even when my own legs gave way from exhaustion.
When he finally won his first academic competition, I wept with joy. It was the first ray of light after a long darkness. Yet the struggle continued. University demanded fees, the commute drained energy. He took on odd jobs to pay for books and travel.
It was tough: stern tutors, indifferent strangers, sleepless nights. But he never quit. Each fall taught him to rise without fear. I kept sending parcels, letters, and small sumsliving solely for him.
Years later Andrew graduated with honors and earned a scholarship abroad. Letting him go hurt, but my heart whispered, Now he can truly soar. He returned, changedconfident, strong, successful. He started his own company and helped others, never forgetting where hed come from.
One evening he took my hands and said, Mum everything I have is because of you.
Tears filled my eyes.
I only did what a mother must, I replied softly.
He handed me the keys to a new housewarm, bright, free from fear and frost.
This, Mum, youll never be cold again. This is your home.
I sank onto a soft sofa, looked around the room, and finally felt peace. After years of struggle, warmth had finally returned. In my sons eyes I saw the highest rewardgratitude.
I love you, Mum, he said.
And I love you, son, I smiled. Im proud of you more than anything in the world.
From the ashes of our pain, hope grew. A mothers love didnt just save a childit forged a person. Even in the darkest days it proved that true light lives inside those who refuse to surrender.
Lesson learned: Hardship may dim the world, but perseverance and love keep the inner light burning bright.
