Growing up in poverty, there was always an overwhelming hunger plaguing my household. It tore through my stomach, and my mothers mind. As a child, I realized not how much my mother was working to simply keep us from losing our home. I asked for more and more, unable to bear the emptiness which rumbled through my stomach. My mother desperately craved a life in which she and her child did not have to eat dinner from cans every night. A life where she did not have to worry about the raising prices of rent or food. Yes, I was hungry, but my mother was starving.