My mother tried to help people when she could. Homeless wanderers would sometimes knock on our door to beg for food. I remember one young woman who brought her daughter to our house. “I’m so cold, so hungry,” she said. “But if you give me food, I’ll let my baby eat.” My mother understood that feeling because she had young children, too. She invited them inside and gave them both plates of food. I watched them closely, because the daughter was nearly my age. They were very polite, and ate delicately even though they were starving. I wonder often if they survived, and if they are still in North
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