Breadline: (n) a line of people waiting to receive free food.
I’ve actually said it out loud.
Truth of the matter is, I have rarely been hungry enough to justify a complaint. Maybe lunch was a little late and I claimed low blood sugar, which justified eating a Snickers while waiting for my Big Mac. But I’ve never really been malnourished to the point that my innards were trying to take over my brain.
When I see pictures of human folks standing in line to get nourishment, a meal which I would mock for its insufficiency, I am temporarily humbled and shaken.
Much of the world will go to bed tonight without dinner.
You don’t make friends by bringing this up at a party, and you don’t feed ten children by putting them on your prayer list.
What truly astounded me was when I found myself touring through Haiti, I came across a man who had picked up a few pennies on the street to buy two tomatoes. He also had saved some grains of rice from a bag which had a hole in it. I watched him put that in a pot over a little fire and stir it together as he realized he needed a little something else. He walked over to a patch of grass and pulled out a handful of blades and threw it into his concoction with a smile on his face.
At that point I realized that I had no comprehension of hunger.
Would I be willing to stand in a breadline, waiting for a paltry parcel of portion?
Actually … I think my stomach might insist on it.
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