My husband’s mother and her sister share a home. Recently, they asked us for money for a necessary repair. Without it, they said they would have to take a bank loan. I was surprised that their finances are so tight. During the year (and especially at Christmas), they spend money on unnecessary purchases without hesitation: sending us silly gifts we never use and treating us to meals out, despite our protests. I feel odd giving them money when they clearly aren’t allocating their resources wisely. I’d prefer they establish an emergency fund to buying us gifts. Can we say something, or do we simply fork over the thousands?

ANONYMOUS

What we have here is an immediate problem — a leaking roof, say — and a longer-term one: living within a budget. I know you’re not suggesting withholding help as punishment for frittering away cash on a few “silly gifts” and dinners out (though it sounds a little like that).

Personally, I’m skeptical that such modest thrift would solve either problem. Now, add in the cultural wrinkle that becomes particularly wrinkly at the holidays: Gifts equal love. (Good luck dismantling that one!) So, you’re dealing with a tricky situation.

Here’s what you do: Write a check for the repair today, if you can afford it. (It’s his mother!) And thank them for the silly gifts they send at Christmas. Then, later in January, pay a visit with your husband to his mother and aunt.

Have him say, “Mom, you’ve done so much for me. It was our pleasure to help you. But I think we should visit a financial planner. I want to help you and your sister create a budget that lets you live well and keeps the house in good repair.” If they agree, they may curb their unnecessary spending. If not, send them to the bank for a loan next time.

You’re in Town?

Every year, my spouse and I visit our hometown for the holidays. It’s a whirlwind couple of weeks as we try to see every sister, aunt, nephew and in-law. If we’re lucky, we get a date night. But I have a friend who insists I see her every time I come home. Some years, it’s just not possible or doesn’t cross my mind to text her. If she sees on Instagram that I’m home, she fires off furious messages that I’m not making an effort to see her. Lately, she’s given me the cold shoulder. Should I reach out as an olive branch or let this friendship go?

ANONYMOUS

It’s hard to soothe friends who feel hurt by us without acknowledging their feelings, reasonable or not. And it seems unlikely to me that you’ll convince this friend that you don’t have a minute to spare over 14 days. No one is that busy!

The two of you may simply have an unequal interest in your friendship. If you’re more upset by her “cold shoulder” than by the prospect of not seeing her, let this go for now. Get back in touch, and talk out your feelings, when you’re ready to meet.

Our Rude Relatives Are Canceled

My sister married the love of her life this fall. My family and I are thrilled for the newlyweds! Unfortunately, our excitement is not shared by our extended family, who wrote a letter complaining about their placement in the “cheap seats” at the wedding and other longstanding grievances. The problem: My mother has hosted every major holiday for our extended family for years. She is a gracious host and quick to forgive. I am not. I told her: “It’s them or me this Christmas.” What do you think?

BROTHER

Recant your ultimatum immediately. Your wise mother understands that a single hothead wrote that letter, not your entire extended family — just as another hothead reported the brouhaha to me. (Was this letter even addressed to you?)

Friction among family members is inevitable. But our shared history with them often makes it worthwhile to sweep petty squabbles (like “cheap seats”) under the rug. Behave like a gentleman at the Christmas table. And even if you can’t forgive certain relatives now, don’t embarrass your mother by making an ugly scene.

Let’s Put a Face to a Wreath

For four years, I bought our holiday wreath from a boy who belongs to a local civic organization. I know his parents socially. Every year, his father contacts his friends on behalf of his son, and his mother delivers the wreaths. I have never interacted with the boy, who is now in high school. This bothers me. So, I decided not to buy a wreath this year. My husband thinks I should continue supporting the civic group. Am I wrong?

SHEILA

I wouldn’t say wrong, exactly. But everyone loses this way. The organization is out your support. The boy doesn’t learn the importance of personal contact to some people. And you don’t get the experience you want — or a wreath. If it’s not too late, tell the father: “We’ll take a wreath. And please bring your son when you deliver it. We’d like to meet our longtime evergreen supplier!”

For help with your awkward situation, send a question to SocialQ@nytimes.com, to Philip Galanes on Facebook or @SocialQPhilip on Twitter.

Rumsinah, 44

Role: Zipper operator at PT. Fajarindo Faliman Zipper, which focuses largely on in-house brands

Where: Tangerang, Indonesia

“Most of my co-workers and I are all old-timers,” said Ms. Rumsinah, who has been working at the same factory for 26 years. “It’s a good factory, so no one really quits. There’s seldom any job openings — only if someone retires.”

She is paid about 3.4 million rupiah, or $241, per month, which she said is tight as a single parent. Her son recently finished high school. “He can’t work at my factory because there’s no openings,” she said. “He wants to be a teacher, but we don’t have enough money to send him to go to university.”

Though her job is tiring, “all jobs are tiring,” she said. “At least weekends are off, and the hours are not too bad.”

Waheed, 38

Role: Sewing bedsheets and curtains at a textile mill

Where: Pakistan

Waheed, who is being identified only by his first name, has been in the textile industry for 20 years and works seven days a week to support his wife and two young sons. They share a house with his parents, his sisters and his brothers.

“Most factories place a lot of restrictions on garment workers. Once they come in for their shift around 8 in the morning, there’s no knowing when supervisors will let them out. It may be 8 p.m. or 10 p.m. by the time they are allowed to leave for the day.

Workers at my factory don’t have it as bad. That’s why I’ve been here for the past 10 years. It’s a nice place to work. But some of the resources that workers really need aren’t provided, such as first-aid kits or pension cards.

It’s pretty common to get your fingers injured — sometimes needles break and get stuck in your bone if your hand gets in the way of the machine. Then you have to go to the hospital and get X-rays yourself.

It’s difficult to manage on the salary I earn. My expenses amount to about 2,000 rupees a day, including the cost of my children’s clothes, their education, my family’s groceries and other bills. But I barely make 1,000 rupees a day.”

Seak Hong, 36

Role: Sews outdoor apparel and bags at Horizon Outdoor

Where: Khum Longvek, Kampong Chhnang, Cambodia

Six days a week, Ms. Hong wakes up at 4:35 a.m. to catch the truck to work from her village. Her workday begins at 7 and usually lasts nine hours, with a lunch break. During the peak season, which lasts two to three months, she works until 8:30 p.m.

Ms. Hong has been in the garment business for 22 years. She earns the equivalent of about $230 a month and supports her father, her sister, her brother (who is on disability) and her 12-year-old son.

She hopes he will not end up in a factory, too, but the price of a quality education — about $20 per month — is beyond her means. While she is at work, her sister manages the household, taking care of their oxen and rice farming their land for extra food.

“I feel tired, but I have no choice,” Ms. Hong said. “I have to work.”

Yurani Tascon, 34

Role: Tracks daily production numbers at Supertex, which works with major active wear brands

Where: Yumbo, Colombia

“They spoil us a lot here,” Ms. Tascon said. “It’s a job with good stability.” Her workplace blasts music — usually salsa or something traditional — from speakers throughout the day while employees make coats, bathing suits and sportswear.

At 11 a.m., employees get “pausas activas”: active breaks with music.

Sarjimin, 39

Role: Makes shoes for a comfort footwear brand at PT. Dwi Naga Sakti Abadi

Where: Tangerang, Indonesia

Mr. Sarjimin has worked at the same factory for about 12 years. The job is relatively stable, and his workplace is spacious, bright and safe.

He earns the equivalent of $250 a month, and his wife also works at a factory. The family is able to send their children, a 13-year-old and a 9-year-old, to good schools. They recently purchased a computer for their older son, who is passionate about technology.

Mr. Sarjimin farms catfish to supplement his family’s grocery money. He started six months ago, filling a big empty drum with starter fish as an experiment. Now he has two drums with 300 fish each, and he sells them to friends, family and neighbors.

One day, he would like to raise catfish full time. “There’s a motivational speaker I heard once, ‘You have to dare to dream, how to get there is a question for a different time,’” he said. “I like remembering those words.”

Saida, 38

Role: Sewing machine operator at Pinehurst Manufacturing, which works with major active wear brands

Where: San Pedro Sula, Honduras

The factory where Saida has worked for the last 12 years is one of the few in the area. She earns about 8,200 lempira each month, roughly $331. “It doesn’t cover everything,” she said. “Vivimos sobregirados.” (“We live overdrawn.”)

Saida lives with her mother and her 19-year-old daughter, who goes to school. “I am the one who provides everything at home. The house, the water, the electricity,” she said. “You have to stop buying certain things to be able to cover the necessities.”

Her unit currently has one primary client, a major sportswear brand. This is a source of anxiety for her and her co-workers because they fear mass layoffs if the client leaves the company. “It’s really difficult having one client,” she said.

Bui Chi Thang, 35

Role: Stitching denim together for sustainability-focused brands at Saitex International

Where: Bien Hoa, Vietnam

Mr. Bui has been at his factory for seven years. “It matches my skill,” he said, “and the salary is enough for my family.” He earns approximately 90 million dong annually, roughly $3,880, which he uses to support his mother, wife and son.

During the average nine-hour workday, “I can finish 1,000 to 1,200 pieces a day, depending on the difficulty,” he said.

Santiago, 48

Role: Sews clasps and zippers onto dresses, blouses and pants at a factory

Where: Los Angeles

“I’m from Guatemala. I’ve been doing garment work for 16 years. I started because it was the only thing I knew how to do after leaving my home country,” Santiago said. “I came here because there were not as many opportunities back home, and with six children, there are a lot of expenses.”

In the last five years, he has worked in five to eight factories. They are often windowless and dirty, with little ventilation, he said.

When he first moved to Los Angeles, Santiago was working 11-hour shifts, seven days a week. Now he works about 50 hours a week, taking home up to $350. The majority of his co-workers — around 30 other people — are Spanish speakers from Guatemala, El Salvador and Mexico.

“I’m just making ends meet,” he said. “I’m always trying to figure out how to save money, how to buy food, how to not eat out too much.” Still, he said it is better than what he was earning in Guatemala.

Maria Valdinete da Silva, 46

Role: Self-employed seamstress

Where: Caruaru, Brazil

The last factory Ms. da Silva worked at produced men’s street wear. She spent eight years there, stitching side seams together in an assembly line with an hourly quota.

“Some companies, like the one I worked for, no longer have employees inside the factory and the seamstresses work from home,” she said. “They establish small groups, tiny factories, and they are paid per item, so they basically have the same production without any costs.”

In order to make minimum wage, outsourced employees “have to work from day to night,” she said.

Ms. da Silva now makes women’s clothing independently, producing fewer pieces and selling them locally. She makes “maybe half” of minimum wage, but she said it’s worth it to work at her own pace. “I love what I do,” she said. “I no longer see myself in that situation of sitting in front of a machine doing the same thing every day.”

She is planning on taking fashion design courses soon. “Seamstresses are the key element in the fashion chain, we are the ones who put the clothes together,” she said. “You basically have to kill yourself in front of a sewing machine in order to provide for your family.”

Antonio Ripani, 72

Role: Leather quality control at Tod’s Group

Where: Casette d’Ete, Italy

Mr. Ripani, who began working with leather at 14, has been employed by Tod’s for more than 40 years, where he assesses “practically all the hides that arrive” for quality.

“Alone it’s hard to do everything, so I have a group of ragazzi [guys] under me and I have taught them everything I’ve been able to understand after all these years,” he said.

Mr. Ripani doesn’t earn much, he said, but he sets his own schedule, often working eight to 12 hours a day. He has assistants and has received awards for his highly specialized work.

(In an email, a spokesman from Shahi Exports acknowledged the 2018 incident and forwarded a statement outlining the preventive measures the company has since enacted.

“I solemnly and sadly open the debate on the impeachment of the president of the United States.”

So said Nancy Pelosi, the speaker of the House, on Wednesday morning as she stood in the cavernous chamber of the House of Representatives in a lapelless black suit, almost military in design, with a high neck. Its somber color was a reflection of the darkness of the day and the conscious choice for a woman fluent in the communicative uses of color. Atop it, a dagger-like gold pin shone out over her heart like a beacon.

But what was it?

Immediately the watching public began to wonder. After all, it was impossible to miss, standing out not just against her suit, but amid the sea of little congressional buttons and American flags worn by Ms. Pelosi’s colleagues. (In politics, a pin is never just a pin — at least not since Madeleine Albright published a book on her brooch diplomacy.) Clearly it was no mere decoration.

Indeed not. It is her power pin.

Literally (and also possibly metaphorically), it is a symbol of the office she holds.

And though there was some confusion in the watching public over what, exactly, it was, with some speculating on social media that it represented the Caduceus pin, or a medical symbol, and others comparing it to the Hand of the King from “Game of Thrones,” the pin actually represents the Mace of the United States House of Representatives: the long, blunt battle staff that has embodied the legislative branch’s authority since 1789.

Take that, ye errant executive, or something.

According to a website that catalogs the history of the House of Representatives, the mace is composed of 13 bundled rods, which look like a dagger from afar. They nod to the ancient Roman fasces, used to communicate strength through unity, and represent the original 13 states. The bundled rods are crowned by a globe — i.e., the world — atop which sits an American bald eagle, representing the obvious.

It was made by Ann Hand, a designer in Washington, D.C., who specializes in patriotic jewelry, and is the wife of Lloyd Hand, the chief of protocol under Lyndon Johnson. According to her website, Ms. Hand is also responsible for “the official pin worn by the spouses of the U.S. House of Representatives” and has also made “brooches for all the Armed Services, the Naval Academy and West Point” (among other governmental bodies).

Her mace pin is brass with a gold overlay and has a pearl (or faux pearl) for the globe. It sells for $125, and at the moment it is on backorder. Its most famous owner has, apparently, set off something of a trend.

This is not, after all, the first time Ms. Pelosi has worn her pin. Indeed, she has worn it on a number of important public occasions since first winning re-election as speaker of the House.

She wore it, for example, at the president’s first State of Union, on the lapel of her cream suit, when she and many of the women of her caucus wore white.