Why Hunger is So Important to Me

 Many years ago, I learned what poverty and hunger were first hand. Struggling to pay a mortgage, utilities, student loans, car payments, gasoline, not to mention credit cards while raising four little kids was excruciatingly difficult.

We were in no way extravagant in our expenditures. Children’s clothes were hand me downs or purchased from second hand stores. We used cloth diapers, drank powdered milk, made our own bread, and bottled the fruit our neighbors and friends shared with us.

Despite that we were a happy family, but the stresses of not having enough to cover our most basic costs and the incessant calls from bill collectors took their toll.

To make a little extra money, I sold homemade bread around the neighborhood. One time our car broke down and we made a deal with a neighbor who was a mechanic. He fixed our car and for payment I  baked bread for his family. For his one hour of work we were charged $160.00 which translated into 80 loaves of bread and countless hours of time.

I was also a childcare provider and taught preschool in my home. My husband taught school in the day, and night school at night and still we didn’t have enough.

A friend of mine sewed a dress in exchange for a handmade doll that I made for her daughter. I loved that dress and wore it all of the time. The day it got caught on the lawn mower and ripped was one of many last straws. I sat down on the steps and cried knowing we didn’t have resources  to replace it.

Money for groceries was the one budget category that had some flexibility. In other words what was left after all of the other expenses is what we had for food and we were lucky to always have food on our table. Breakfast was corn meal mush, oatmeal, or farina. Lunch was PB&J or mac and cheese, and dinner was some version of hamburger or tuna casserole with cream of mushroom soup, noodles, and either canned corn, or canned green beans (which was spread over two nights). It was a welcome relief when  a friend of mine who’s husband grew up on a reservation taught me how to make beans and homemade tortillas. We always had homemade bread and jam for treats. Having said that, it wasn’t a given that food would always be available. Deep in my tissues I still feel the fear I felt when food was getting low and there wasn’t any money to go to the store.

On one such occasion there was only enough money to put gas in the car so my husband could get to work. I was doing my best to make what little bit of food we had stretch, but the time came when the flour bin got dangerously low and I feared not being able to feed our kids. Miraculously that night, a 10 pound bag of flour was left on my porch. I have no idea how it got there. It’s amazing what a 10 pound bag of flour can mean. Gandhi said “To a hungry man, a piece of bread is the face of God.” I know that to be true.

Another similar time when I was feeling that familiar fear, a neighbor showed up at my house with a bag of homemade waffles and an ice cream pal filled with hot chocolate mix. She said she had spent hours making it and her kids were so naughty she told them she was going to give it to the neighbors. So she marched over to my house and offered it to me. I was grateful beyond belief and our family was spared once again.

On both occasions someone’s kindness saved us in ways they could never know.

So why is the issue of hunger so important to me?

Because I know what it feels like to be afraid I won’t be able to feed my family. Thankfully, my family never went without, but I remember well the fear of not being able to provide my family’s most basic needs.

When I think of that terrible feeling and times it by 10 or more, I can’t bare it, and when I know that 1 in 8 people suffer from hunger in the world and 60 % of them are women it is intolerable to me.

When I know without proper nutrition in the first three years of a child’s life and that includes in utero, their brain will be permanently stunted, making it impossible for that child to reach it’s potential, I shutter; because there but for the grace of God go I.

Some people believe that hunger is too big a problem to solve, but the facts are that it isn’t. There is enough food on the planet to feed its’ entire population. Yes it’s complicated but there are experts who are dedicating their lives to eradicating hunger and they can do it, but not without help.

It is not enough for me to know the reality of what is going on, understand the suffering even if on a small scale, know that it can be fixed, and simply hope that it will be taken care of.

It is not enough for me to pray or practice Metta for those who are suffering, and for those who are on the frontline working to solve this problem, and hope for a miracle.

From my perspective as a mother, I remember the difference two acts of kindness made in my life. A bag of flour, some waffles and hot chocolate not only fed my family but gave me hope and gratitude that carried me through hard times.

I believe in small ways we can make a big difference. We don’t have to take on the whole world but if each one of us made an effort to do something, I believe it would reach the whole world.

That is why I care so much about hunger. That is why in the past I initiated the Pioneers of Peace Thanks”Giving” Cup Campaign for the World Food Program. That is why I host a Winter Solstice Night of Celebration and Meditation for a ten dollar donation to Feeding America. And that is why I will continue to find ways to fight hunger.

I am torn between wanting to provide opportunities for people to help in this effort, and knowing I am the only one whom I have control over. I don’t have an answer but I know I have a responsibility to do something. Perhaps this is time for some “Grandmother Energy” to move mountains. Who’s in?

Small acts make a big difference… and now I’m going to go make some beans and homemade tortillas.

Sending warm thoughts your way,

Barbara

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