My mother's sister was killed in a trolley car accident, so I was raised as one of eight with my sister and six male cousins.
Everything my mother made had to cook for 80 hours, and when she made matzoh balls she didn't know fluffy. Everything sank.
I just never saw my mother in any other room but the kitchen. There were always pots going.
My mother kept the house clean and we ate good. I didn't know we were poor until I started giving interviews.
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