THE BREAD WINNER

ional debt owed to everyone they support. It grows quietly, fueled by expectations and the unsaid belief that once someone has helped you, they must

er brother must be enrolled in a university. An uncle's rent is due. These are the silent appeals that tug at t

st never be tired. Their resources must never dry up. Their energy must never dim. After all, di

, and even when they are drained to the bone, they must continue to give. Their gestures, no matter how grand,

e else, are susceptible to failure and fatigue. When they can no longer meet demands, the silence of understanding is replaced by a

hey give, not who they are. They become tools of utility, not beings of worth. And even as they cry inwardl

demands come. They stretch themselves thin, sacrificing their own basic needs just to meet the expectations of others. They g

ty's failure to recognize that even the strongest need rest. That even those who provide d

er age before their time. Yet they keep going. Because deep down, they fear becoming a d

es, minds, and hearts-repaying a debt no one el