In Defense of L, Part IV

When my dad died I was 21. In the year that followed, I made a lot of crazy decisions. One of those was to quit my relatively secure, well-paying job and go back to school to finish my degree. I didn't plan very well and ended up very, very poor as a student. Poor to the point of having no heat and going hungry sometimes. L knew how things were for me. When I'd go out to visit her, she always sent me home with a bag of groceries. Like a huge container of oatmeal and other staples, along with homemade baked goods. She and her family didn't have much in those days either but she always sent me home with food. She also told my mom I didn't have any heat, which caused Mom to send me a check. L never made me feel small or weak for being poor. She just did what she could to help. More than once the food she gave me was the only food in my cupboard. I'll always be grateful for that help.