The Great Depression

My name is Lily, and before the world felt a little gray, my life was a pocketful of sunshine. I remember our house was always warm, filled with the sweet smell of Mama baking apple pies in the kitchen. The scent would dance all the way to the front porch. My favorite sound in the whole world was Papa's heavy boots on the wooden steps when he came home from work. He always had a smile for me and sometimes, if I was lucky, a shiny penny to buy a peppermint stick at the corner store. Our home felt so big and safe, like a cozy blanket wrapped around us. We had everything we needed, and worries were like tiny pebbles you could easily kick down the road. Mama would sing songs while she patched my dresses with colorful thread, and life felt as sweet and easy as a spoonful of honey.

Then one day, the sunshine seemed to hide behind a big, dark cloud. Papa came home early, and his boots didn't make their happy sound on the steps. He told Mama he had lost his job. It felt like the whole country’s money jar had suddenly become empty, and everyone was scrambling to find the last few coins. Our world started to change in small ways at first. There were no more pennies for peppermint sticks, and Mama started mending our clothes with plain thread instead of colorful patterns. The apple pies became a rare treat we only dreamed about. Soon, we had to say goodbye to our big, warm house and move into a tiny apartment with only two rooms. It was crowded, but Mama would hug me tight every night and say, “As long as we’re together, Lily, we have everything that truly matters.” We learned to share everything, from the single potato in our soup to the small blanket we all huddled under at night.

Even though the days were hard, we started to find little glimmers of sunshine again, not in things, but in people. Our neighbor, Mrs. Gable, would bring over a warm loaf of bread whenever she had extra flour, and we would share vegetables from the little garden box we kept on our windowsill. Everyone was helping everyone else. Then, we heard about a new plan from our president, Mr. Franklin D. Roosevelt. He called it the ‘New Deal,’ and it was a big idea to help families like mine. The plan was to pay people to build new roads, bridges, and parks. One day, Papa came home with that happy sound in his step again. He got a job helping build a beautiful new park for our city. That night, he brought home a small bag of lemon drops, and they tasted like the brightest sunshine I had ever known. We learned that even after the darkest storm, the kindness of people can help everyone find their way back to the light.