Marie Schmit

It's a quiet morning, and I stretch my legs out from under the worn quilt, feeling the familiar ache in my knees. I summon the strength to rise and make my way to the kitchen, preparing my tea the same way I have for years.

My name is Marie, and I am a 84-year-old pensioner living in Luxembourg. Despite the country's wealth and progressive strides in workplace gender equality, I am one of many women who face financial struggles in retirement. My days as a nursery school teacher were fulfilling, but they didn’t lead to a substantial pension. I never married, never had children, and now I find myself relying on the kindness of others to get by.

A few years ago, I discovered a local food bank. It's humbling to admit, but without their help, I would struggle to put meals on my table. On my first visit, I was nervous and embarrassed, but then a familiar face emerged from the kitchen. It was Luc, one of my former kindergarten students. He recognized me instantly, and we shared a warm embrace.

Luc now works as a cook at the food bank. Since that day, he has made it his mission to look after me. Every week, he brings me fresh food, ensuring I have enough to eat. His visits have become a highlight in my otherwise solitary life. We often sit and talk for hours, reminiscing about the old days and sharing stories of our lives. His kindness has brought a new sense of comfort and connection to my days.

Though I used to be quite active and had a bustling social life, time has taken many of my friends. Those who are still around are often just as constrained by physical limitations as I am. My mobility isn't what it used to be, and getting out of the house is a challenge. But with Luc’s visits, I feel less isolated. I am deeply grateful for his help and the friendship we have built.