TB

My mother continued work to raise money to get to the U.S.A. I remember, and was told, it was the Pot of Gold. My mother always felt guilty. I knew that. She did the best she could under the  circumstances.
She would often buy me dinner before she went to work. But the most interesting was a savings bank on the mantel with money. I emptied it frequently to buy a small bottle of Coke. By the time the man came to collect the savings from the savings pot for the TB there would be very little there. I never did get punished for this. Never. I think my father had been caught. My mother thought it was funny.
I never stole from that pot again. Don't ask me how I got away with it. My father was quite the punisher.