Waiting in line for food assistance. Filling out forms for emergency housing support. Admitting to strangers that they had exactly three dollars and seventeen cents to their name.
Three dollars and seventeen cents.
That was what remained of forty-five years of marriage, decades of hard work, and a lifetime spent trying to do everything right.
“Next,” the clerk called.
Adeline and Silas stood together and moved to the window with as much dignity as they could gather. The clerk, a tired-looking woman in her forties with reading glasses sliding down her nose, barely looked up as they approached.
“Name?”
“Adeline and Silas Carter,” Adeline said quietly.
“Reason for assistance?”
Adeline glanced at Silas. He nodded, giving her permission to tell the story one more time.
“My husband had cancer,” she began, her voice steady despite the emotion pressing behind it. “Pancreatic cancer. He was diagnosed two years ago. The treatment saved his life, but it cost us everything.”
The clerk looked up then, her expression softening.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is he in remission now?”
“Yes,” Silas said, speaking for the first time. His voice was gravelly but strong. “Clean bill of health for eight months now. But the bills…”
He trailed off, shaking his head.
The bills. That was the story of their last two years.
Leave a Comment