ADVERTISEMENT
When I sent my daughter Maya to school with the only Christmas gift I could afford, I knew the risk. The note said gifts didn’t matter—but I’d seen the luxury backpacks, the comparisons, the quiet hierarchies kids learn too young.
We chose a secondhand hardcover of Timeless Christmas Stories and Poems. Gold lettering, beautiful illustrations. Maya tied the ribbon herself. She was proud. I was terrified.
A classmate had laughed at the book, called it the worst gift ever, said Maya belonged in a school for poor kids. Even the teacher looked away. I held my daughter while she cried, knowing that shame too well.
Continue reading…
ADVERTISEMENT