In case anyone doesn't know and is interested in more of his work, comic book artist Chris Ware is behind this cover. Arguably the best graphic novelist alive, his contributions and covers for The New Yorker over the years have been breathtakingly poignant, and I highly encourage anyone who hasn't done so to get their hands on anything he's done (Acme Novelty Library, Jimmy Corrigan, etc.) in the past. You won't regret it.
A reflection of my childhood, to an extent. My family was reasonably poor when I was growing up (always ate, but sacrificed a lot of living space to do so -- and my dad worked most weekends), and in a very obvious way, because we lived near a very rich neighborhood so I could go to the best school in the area. Unlike many (some?) children, and like the girl on the cover, I was keenly aware of money from a young age due to this contrast. Generally I never asked my parents for money -- was always very proud of that, still am -- but there were times when it was obviously kinda shitty. A vivid memory of my mother getting very angry at me about something to do with waste, probably leaving lights on and burning power, and me attempting to give her my life savings of a bucket of dimes. Her crying, me leaving the house for a few hours. Age nine or thereabouts. That's not why I submitted it; that's what I think about it. I submitted it because I very much appreciate when an artist can take a limited space and a somewhat limited medium and express a fundamental idea.