Migrant Mother

Sam Jung

1930 3/15

           I here my Children's weeping. They are not telling me why, but i know why. We haven't had a meal since Last Monday. It's been two days. You don't know how sad to be a mother and not even be able to provide food for your children's. I am desperate for food. All I see is my daughters thin arm around my neck, their skinny legs that barely helping them balance them selves. Their ribs starting to show through their ripped cloths All I am thinking about is my husband who went off to bring food, but never came back. Is he dead? Did he just left us for himself? I am worried and disturbed at the same time. We are in the house empty but full of coldness breeze. Nothing left to trade for food or even to burn for fire. I heard that Mr. Blanchards wife Mrs. Blanchard died in hunger. That startled our village. What will happen to our nation know. Will everything end like this? All I can do for this moment is to have my arms around my Children's and pray to God. 'God, help our nation,'