A mother who struggles to keep her two children safe and give them what the world doesn't seem to want to give them.

Part 1

A mother is who I am. Poor is my label. I can't tell whether or not my existence have a core purpose than giving my two kids what the world doesn't seem to want to give them, which is just the basic needs and some little piece of love that I cherish them from the shattered heart of mine.

The day I lost half, if not all of my pounding living heart, I was in search of food far from where we stayed the night. Barefeet, empty stomach, aching heart and a little shimmering hope was all what I had. I went and went until what seemed like forever and arrived to my shimmering little hope that keeps us alive in most of the days. UNICEF is a charity organization found a bit afar from the city. It is something the world has put near for us to see how helpful people can be unless if they don't want to. I was one of the rigistered destitutes who are given aid every year. And that day, I went there since children children in underprivileged homes can receive additional aid throughout the year. But, alas, it turned out the agent has ceased giving the additional aid for this year and the year to come.

After I knew that all the way I came along was nothing but a waste of time, I started my way back home right away. Home is what I called the place we mostly stay at; not because it had walls and a roof, but just because it felt a little bit safer and a bit more warmer than any place we have been to. And that was where I left my kids, the two pieces of my heart, barefoot, hungry and alone. Little did I knew that no place in this world can be safer than the embrace of a mother and home was something we weren't meant to have.

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