A Letter From Forgotten People
I got a letter last week from a young mother in Lorena, Texas, and I want to read a part of it to you.
She writes, "Our worries go from pay day to pay day . . . just like millions of others, and we have two fairly decent incomes. But I worry about how I'm going to pay the rising car insurance and food.
"I pray my kids don't have a growth spurt from August to December so I don't have to buy new jeans. We buy clothes at the budget stores and we have them fray, and fade, and stretch in the first wash.
"We ponder and try to figure out how we're going to pay for college, and braces, and tennis shoes. We don't take vacations and we don't go out to eat.
"Please don't think me ungrateful. We have jobs, and a nice place to live, and we're healthy.
"We're the people you see every day in the grocery store. We obey the laws, we pay our taxes, we fly our flags on holidays.
"And we plod along, trying to make it better for ourselves and our children and our parents. We aren't vocal anymore. I think maybe we're too tired.
"I believe that people like us are forgotten in America."
Well, of course you believe you're forgotten. Because you have been.