The War that Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

In January rationing began. It was a way of sharing out what food there was
so that rich people, like Susan, couldn’t go hogging it and leaving poor people
to starve. Rationing meant there might not be any butter or meat in the shops,
and if there was you’d better get in the queue for it fast before it sold out. We
all had ration books that said how much food we were allowed.
It made Jamie nervous. Me too. Susan had always given us plenty of food,
but we knew that was because she was rich, no matter what she said. I’d
gotten used to eating regular.
We tried eating less. The first time Jamie asked to be excused before he
finished his dinner Susan felt his forehead. “Are you sick?” she asked. He
shook his head. “Then eat. I know you can’t be full.”
“I’ll save it for tomorrow,” he said.
I pushed my plate away. “Me too.”
Susan told us firmly that we were not to save our dinners. She said
rationing meant we would have to eat different kinds of food, more
vegetables, less meat, less butter and sweets. It did not mean there would not
be enough food. There would always be enough food. She would personally
see that we always had enough to eat.
“Even if you have to get a job?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she said firmly. “Even if I have to char.”
Chars were the lowliest kind of cleaning lady. Some of the older girls on
our lane back home were chars.
“Why?” I asked.
She looked at me, blank.
“Why? You didn’t want us. You don’t even like us.”
Jamie held perfectly still. Susan sipped her tea, the way she always did
when she was stalling. “Of course I like you,” she said. “Don’t I act as though
I like you?”
I shrugged.
“I never wanted children,” she continued, “because you can’t have children
without being married, and I never wanted to be married. When I shared this