My salary had been enough for one woman with a modest mortgage.
It wasn’t enough for one woman raising two growing boys.
So I took extra shifts.
I canceled cable.
I stopped eating out.
I learned every grocery-store sale schedule within a five-mile radius.
The boys never knew when money was tight.
At least, I tried to make sure they didn’t.
One Christmas, when they were four, I had only sixty dollars left after bills.
I bought two small trucks, pajamas, coloring books, and ingredients for cinnamon rolls.
That morning, George looked at the four presents beneath the tree and whispered, “Santa knew exactly.”
I had to turn toward the sink so they wouldn’t see me cry.
Around that time, I began selling homemade tea blends.
My mother had taught me about herbs when I was young.
Chamomile with lemon peel.
Black tea with orange and cinnamon.
