Stop in for a cup of coffee

The simple beauty of coming from a dirt poor, migrating with work, uneducated family. I got an old Indian picture when my grandfather passed away that was destined for the burn pile. and I got my eye on an old coffee cup when my Father passes. Neither has a pot to pee in, or a window to throw it out of. Sad, but perhaps a blessing? Oddly enough that has been my life’s focus was to create generational wealth and a basis of education for the family. Trying desperately to break the cycle of no education. I have spent the last 60 plus years making a promise good that I made to myself as a child. I swore an oath my children would never go to bed hungry. And they did not, have not.