I do remember the winter my Aunt gave me a hand me down wool winter coat. It was a camel colored coat and mom cleaned it with kerosene . It hung on the clothes line to air for days but always smelled of kerosene! I hated the site and smell of that coat, but cold Indiana winters made me put it on.
No one ever mentioned the coat to me, or how it smelled. I had no idea that I was poor.
Later , when I had a 3 year old , a two year old, and a 8 month old child, I took an old wool coat and made it into a coat, pants, and mittens for the 3 year old. But I was never poor.