A Child's Hunger

" Now a man came up to Jesus and asked, 'Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life'  Jesus replied, ' There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, obey the commandments.'
 'All of these I have kept,' the young man said. 'What do I still lack?' Jesus answered, 'If you want to be perfect, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then, come follow me.' [Matthew 19: 16-21].

January is National Poverty Awareness Month.

In America, that is somewhat ironic, isn't it? January is the month when we run out to all the post-Christmas sales, and buy up everything we did not get for Christmas. As if there were not enough gifts under the tree already. . . . January is also the month when the nation goes on a diet, because of all the excessive eating we did from Thanksgiving until New Year's. January is the month when stores have sales on storage containers, so we can stash all our stuff in perfect plastic containers.

Do we even think of those who cannot put together dinner for themselves and the kids every night? Or of those who don't have twenty sweaters; in fact, they do not have even one?

When I was a child, we had a nice home and there was always food to eat. Nevertheless, at mealtime, I was given a plate of food-- and if I did not eat it, nothing else was given to me. For breakfast, it was oatmeal in the winter and cold cereal in the summer. The oatmeal tasted nasty to me, like some sort of cruel, thick paste with grit in it. My dad would tell me wonderful stories about Goldilocks and the three bears to get me to eat my oatmeal. I would take a few bites and gag.


This was not about a petulant teenager refusing to eat oatmeal if it was not "just right". This was about a two or three year old baby girl, strapped into a high chair, being force fed oatmeal by a parent.  There is something abusive about this, when the baby was choking and gagging and sobbing for the parent to stop. There is something cruel about this, when there was plenty of other food in the house that could have been offered that was equivalent, such as a piece of whole grain toast. Instead, the choice was force fed oatmeal-- or no breakfast at all.

I became obsessed with what I would be offered for dinner. As soon as I got up in the morning, at first light, I would ask my mother what was for dinner? What I really wanted to know is whether I would be able to eat that night. She would get irritated at me and tell me to stop asking.

Once, after Thanksgiving, I was at a friend's house. She offered me some holiday left-overs. I feasted on cold turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce and coconut custard pie. These foods tasted like the best things I had ever eaten. Then I went home because I heard my mother calling me for lunch. She was furious with me for having eaten and she sent me to my room. I was recently telling a wise woman in my life this story and she said, 'She punished you for being hungry.'

I used to have frequent headaches when I was a child. I could not focus in school. I was always cold. I was always exhausted. I was told, 'You cannot be cold. Why are you always so tired? What's wrong with you?' All of these symptoms are caused by hunger. My hunger was apparently my "fault".

I took to hoarding Halloween candy in a big shopping bag in my room. The bag was the kind you get at a fancy department store. One July, my mother found my stash hidden under the the upholstered chair in my room. The chocolate had turned white and the hard candies were sticky and gooey. She became angry. 'WHY are you keeping this?!", she said. Then she threw my food safety net away.

Today, I still get anxious if my shelves are getting bare, or if my shopping list is too long. I still eat half my dinner sometimes, and save the rest for lunch the next day.


After my husband and I got married, a stray cat who came to our door and never left. When I fed her, she would always leave some food in her bowl. Then, she would ceremonially scrape her paw around the bowl after she ate. She was "burying" her food for another time. When I put away some of my meal for another time, my husband says to me, "Stop burying your food!"

My point is, the fear of hunger never goes away, even if you are an adult, able to provide enough food for yourself. You can lift the child out of hunger but you cannot take the hunger out of the child. The scars are life-long.The fear of wondering where your next meal is coming from is always there.

Today, I feed everyone. I make a double batch of brownies and send some over to the neighbor who lost his wife. I pounce on a "Buy- One-Get-One Free" Special at the market and donate the extra one to someone in need. If I can get this special PLUS a discount coupon, my son and I do high-fives! Recently, I hosted an Open House at my home. I put a pot of coffee on, baked some cookies and opened my door. I told everyone, please do not bring me anything: no flowers, no scented candles, no candy.  Just bring an item for the town food pantry. My husband and I ended up bringing over 5 bags of food to the town pantry. The volunteers at the pantry were thrilled.

You may say, 'Why should I feed others? They need to help themselves.'  But, I say, when you feed others, you are feeding a child hope.


Perhaps this January, you are trying yet again to be Perfect: to lose weight, to save money, to get organized. These are all worthy goals.

But to be truly perfect, in God's eyes, you must give to the poor. Then you will truly have treasure in Heaven.

(c) The Spiritual Devotional 2012. All Rights Reserved.