Dan, my husband, works full-time at the community center doing maintenance on leaky pipes, busted toilets, cracked windows. You name it, he fixes it. He’s always tired, always working with his hands, but he never complains. Not once. We both know what the stakes are. When he gets home, there’s always dirt on his sleeves and love in his eyes.
Our daughter, Maddie, just turned 16. Bright kid. Real bright. Straight A’s, obsessed with science, especially biology. She’s already mapping out which universities she wants to apply to, most of them way out of our little town and way out of our price range. Sometimes I catch her staring at the stars through her bedroom window like they’re speaking only to her.
A teenage girl studying | Source: Freepik
She keeps talking about scholarships. “Mom, I just need one good one,” she’ll say, eyes lit up. But those scholarships are like gold dust. And if she doesn’t get one… I honestly don’t know how we’d make it happen. But we don’t say that out loud. We just keep working. Keep saving. Keep hoping. I’ve started skipping lunch more often just to stash five extra dollars into her future.
We’re not poor, exactly. But we’re not far off. Every month feels like trying to solve a math equation with missing variables. Rent, gas, food, meds, school stuff. It all adds up faster than the paychecks do. No vacations unless it’s a cheap road trip, and no dinner out unless someone has a birthday. The last time we went out to eat, Maddie ordered fries like they were a rare delicacy.
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