The Little Match Girl

I'd come home from school and find my favorite light up view master and all of the slides were gone. My mother would say, "I gave them away to Jean, her relatives don't have anything."

You have no value, nothing is yours, there's no such thing as a gift

I have piles of clothes from the free store because my mother refused to buy me clothes. These things stay with you. I pick up shirts, blankets, silverware and sweatshirts from the street. I take them home and wash them and give them a loving home.

The little match girl, my husband calls me.