As a seventh-grader, Draven Schoberg (above) and her younger sister had a strategy for days when they’d come home hungry after school to a mostly empty refrigerator.
The siblings, who lived with their grandparents in Miles, Texas, would search the house—rifling through drawers and turning over couch cushions—looking for quarters.
For 50 cents, they could get two granola bars at a nearby convenience store. That small snack would usually be enough to quiet their rumbling stomachs until dinner—which was often soup or, on a good day, a casserole made of ground beef and tater tots.
During dinner, Draven would try to ignore how her grandparents took tiny portions of food so she and her sister could have more. Although she felt guilty, she would eat—knowing that her next meal wouldn’t be until lunch the following day.