I never imagined a $5 pair of baby shoes could alter the course of my life. But the day I slipped them onto my son’s tiny feet and heard a faint crackling sound, everything shifted — not just in my home, but in my heart.
My name is Claire, I’m 31, a single mom, and most days I’m just trying to make it through one more shift, one more bill, one more long night. Life has been a balancing act of exhaustion and survival. I wait tables at a diner three evenings a week, taking care of my three-year-old son, Stan, while also caring for my bedridden mother. The weight of it all often feels overwhelming, like I’m walking a tightrope with no safety net below.