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Poverty has a face, and it’s not moral affliction

Published 09/16/2012, Duluth News Tribune

Growing up, Sunday dinner was always a special occasion. I could tell because it was the only day we ate in the dining room. My four siblings and I still had to eat our vegetables and clean our plates; there were, after all, children starving elsewhere in the world. But what made it special was that on Sundays we always had dessert. Sometimes it was pudding or Jell-O, but sometimes, if we were really lucky, my mother would bake one of her special apple pies. Once our plates passed inspection and were cleared from the table, they were replaced with pie plates.

Word count: 940

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