for the kids to eat. Give me somethin’! Don’t turn me away when I am sittin’ here in front of you and askin’ for your help!’ She said she had nothin’. So my kids went out into the street. That’s right! Whole night long they was in Herald Square panhandlin’. Made five dollars. So we bought bologna. My kids is good to me. We had bread and bologna. “Welfare, they are not polite. They’re personal. ‘Did you do this? Did you do that? Where your husband at?’ Understand me? ’Cause they sittin’ on the other side of this here desk, they think we’re stupid and we do not understand when we’re insulted. ‘Oh, you had another baby?’ Yeah! I had another baby! What about it? Are you goin’ to kill that baby? I don’t say it, but that’s what I feel like sayin’. You learn to be humble. “I’m here five miserable months. So I wonder: Where I’m goin’? Can’t the mayor give us a house? A part-time job? I am capable of doin’ somethin’ . “You go in the store with food stamps. You need Pampers. You’re not s’posed to use the stamps for Pampers. Stores will accept them. They don’t care about the law. What they do is make you pay a little extra. They know you don’t have no choice. So they let you buy the Pampers for two dollars extra. “Plenty of children livin’ here on nothin’ but bread and bologna. Peanut butter. Jelly. Drinkin’ water. You buy milk. I bought one gallon yesterday. Got this much left.They drink it fast. Orange juice, they drink it fast. End up drinkin’ Kool-Aid. “Children that are poor are used like cattle. Cattle or horses. They are owned by welfare. They know they are bein’ used—for what? Don’t use them! Give ’em somethin’! “In this bedroom I’m not sleepin’ on a bed. They won’t give me one. You can see I’m sleepin’ on a box spring. I said to the manager: ‘I need a bed instead of sleepin’ on a spring.’ Maid give me some blankets. Try to make it softer.” The Bible by her bed is opened to the Twenty-third Psalm. “I do believe. God forgive me. I believe He’s there. But when He sees us like this, I am wonderin’ where is He? I am askin’: Where the hell He gone? “Before they shipped us here we lived for five years in a basement. Five years in a basement with no bathroom. One small room. You had to go upstairs two floors to use the toilet. No kitchen. It was fifteen people in five rooms. Sewer kept backing up into the place we slept. Every time it flooded I would have to pay one hundred dollars just to get the thing unstuck. There were all my children sleepin’ in the sewage. So you try to get them out and try to get them somethin’ better. But it didn’t get no better. I came from one bad place into another. But the difference is this is a place where I cannot get out. “If I can’t get out of here I’ll give them up. I have asked them: ‘Do you want to go away?’ I love my kids and, if I did that, they would feel betrayed. They love me. They don’t want to go. If I did it, I would only do it to protect them. They’ll live anywhere with me. They’re innocent. Their minds are clean. They ain’t corrupt. They have a heart. All my kids love people. They love life. If they got a dime, a piece of bread, they’ll share it. Letting them panhandle made me cry. I had been to welfare, told the ladythat my baby ain’t got Pampers, ain’t got nothin’ left to eat. I got rude and noisy and it’s not my style to do that but you learn that patience and politeness get you nowhere. “When they went out on the street I cried. I said: ‘I’m scared. What’s gonna happen to them?’ But if they’re hungry they are goin’ to do something . They are gonna find their food from somewhere. Where I came from I was fightin’ for my children. In this place here I am fightin’ for my children. I am tired of fightin’. I don’t want to fight. I want my kids to live in peace. “I was thinkin’ about this. If there was a