Yes,absolutely.

We hadmoved to a good school district in Milwaukee,

calledWauwatosa, and no, I’m not making up names.

Though wehad to live in a small bungalow

to affordthat school district.

Fortunately,the shops were one street away.

I took myyoung daughters

to theMcDonald’s for lunch once or twice a week.

They werethree and six years old,

and I woremy most comfortable clothes at home with the girls.

That meantshabby jeans with holes in them.

Slightlybaggy. Some cheap top and my Keds.

My pursewas brown leather and extremely worn out,

but Ididn’t want to spend the money to replace it.

Besides, mywallet was equally worn and falling apart.

My girlswore clothes mainly purchased from the second-hand store just down the street.We looked shabby, but comfortable.

AtMcDonalds I never had enough money to buy both girls a Happy Meal,

so whilethey begged for one Happy Meal a piece,

I orderedtwo hamburgers, one french fry and that would be all.

After amonth or two of this,

I wouldopen the bag to find an extra order of french fries,

or twoapple pies, and sometimes an extra hamburger and a pie.

I thoughtMcDonalds was giving me food they were going to throw out,

and I wentabout eating the extras so kindly provided.

Though,strangely, sometimes two Happy Meal toys would be in the bag.

Oneevening, when I was dressed up to head to the theatre,

I was aboutto walk into McDonalds

to buy aBig Mac, when it hit me.

Theemployees thought I had no money!

They heardme tell each daughter

I didn’thave the money for two Happy Meals,

they hadseen me in my comfy, shabby clothes

doling outthe amount owed in change and not dollars.

Theythought I was very poor,

and whilewe weren’t exactly flush with cash,

I did havemoney enough

to go outto the theatre downtown.

I realizedI couldn’t enter that McDoanlds.

Not lookinggood.

I wouldhave felt like an imposter,

a cheat anda scoundrel.

I honestlythought the employees were being kind

andstuffing in an old french fry order or chicken nuggets with sauce.

It didn'toccur to me that

I looked soshabby and poor.

I was astay-at-home mother,

so why onEarth did I need to look put together and nice?

Well, afterthat, my husband and I had a great laugh about it,

and I thinkI went out and bought a purse that wasn’t falling apart at the seams.

I slowlybegan to go to the McDonalds with my kids in their good clothes.

Eventually,the free goodies essentially stopped.

But notthose Happy Meal toys.

I really couldnot afford two of them,

and mygirls would have fought over just one.

The sweetemployees would tuck in two toys for the girls,

and I wasso thankful.

My familystill laughs about those days

and whatMcDonalds did for us.

They wereso sweet.

I knew I hadmade it financially

when Icould order two Happy Meals.

Things werelooking up for the Eppers,

and weeventually bought a larger home

fartherwest in the suburbs.

Thank youMcDonalds for giving

a poor-ishmom enough food and toys

to make thetrip more fun.

Thekindness was much appreciated.