I don't know much of my family history and stories except for my one grandpa. The reason why is because he's always told me stories about himself growing up during the depression in Harlem. Whenever he tells me them I feel like I'm learning a part of history and at the same time it makes me thankful for what I have today.
Both of my great grandparents came over to the united states from italy during the early 1900's. They ended up settling in a mostly Italian neighborhood in east Harlem. My grandpa had 8 other brothers and sisters that all had to live in a small apartment. He told me how about the depression was and how everyone was poor. He even said his teacher would bring him sandwiches to school because sometimes he wouldn't have any lunch.
Almost every Christmas he tells me to be happy with whatever I get and he jokes around saying he'd be lucky if he got coal for christmas because at least it'd keep him warm. He said one year he actually got an orange for Christmas. Yeah an orange, something that someone would have for breakfast on a normal day. So you should always be happy with whatever you have because someone out there has it much worse off.
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