The whisper of the cold winter's night is unavoidable. As I look at the stars high above me, I realize that this pain won't stop. Tom is sick again. We cannot afford the doctors we need desperately. I fear this is my little boy's last hours. He is so strong and I feel so weak. My job is gone, my families life is depleting, and worse, the rent is do next week. God, if you're up there, please tell Herbert Hoover what he is doing to us, to me...
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