My mother was born near Camolin in County Wexford in the 1930s in what was then known as the Irish Free State. She lived through a childhood which was so deprived it makes Frank McCourt's account of his early childhood in the lanes of Limerick in Angela's Ashes seem positively privileged.
My mam lived in a rural location in a house with no running water and very little food and today's so called "poverty line" would have been luxurious compared to her family's genuine hardship. She had a daily 4 mile round trip on foot to the nearest school in all weathers dressed in little more than rags. One anecdote I can share with you is the time she returned home from school one afternoon with her usual hunger pains. Upon arrival into the freezing, poorly lit house she noticed her mother stirring a huge steaming pot in the kitchen. Mam's excitement was barely contained as the prospect of a feed of hot potatoes on this day was heaven sent. As she sat down at the table she asked my Granny when the spuds would be ready as she was in great pain with the hunger. Granny looked at her as if she was stupid and replied "These aren't potatoes, I'm washing the bed sheets". Apparently, all the spuds had gone and Granny was simply passing the time cleaning the bed linen in a pot over the ancient stove from water procured from the nearby river.
Now that WAS poverty.
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