Tag Archives: hunger

Comparison

Comparison: (n) the act of comparing

“Most of the world …”

I think we all have to agree, that’s a pretty bold generalization. To claim that “most of the world” does anything or is anything might be the soil for the seeds of prejudice.

But it is safe to assume that a good portion of this planet gets up every morning not certain there will be anything to put in their food bowl by nighttime.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Even though in the United States we have poverty, hunger, to some degree, has become a choice. There’s always someone offering something at some location for individuals who can’t put together enough “bread” for their bread.

But there are people in the world who cannot benefit from such altruism and generosity because those around them suffer under the same lack, and there are a limited number of ways to divide up a tomato.

So when we make comparisons between people in our country and the souls that live on other parcels of land on Planet Earth, we need to be cautious.

Because when you remove starvation, deprivation, filthy water, constant exposure to the elements and inept and often dangerous government, you discover that you possess a treasure trove of blessings.

We are America.

We must learn to judge ourselves by our own talents, fortunes and abilities–not by producing a comparison with countries that dig in the dirt, attempting to grow one single plant from which to eat.

 

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Broth

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Broth: (n) soup consisting of meat or vegetable chunks, and often rice, cooked in stock.

Although it may seem bewildering, it is one of my fondest memories.

I was in the midst of one of my festering needs to lose weight and had fasted for about a day-and-a-half (though at the time I would have insisted it was two).Dictionary B

I was hungry.

You see, as a fat man, I never allow myself to become hungry. The presence of food is the ushering in of appetite.

I’ve never been able to consider the consumption of calories to be nutrition for survival, but rather, a pleasure I grant myself in large quantities, to confirm that I have the power to relish what is available.

Bluntly, I’m never starved. I just eat.

On this particular occasion, though, I actually gained the pangs, the passion and the purpose to receive food.

My body was growing weaker and weaker, and threatened to shut down in protest over my abstinence from meals.

Yet there was a thirty-minute passage of time when I felt more alive than I had ever felt before. I needed something–and was fully aware that I was about to receive it.

I was really famished.

I sensed a yearning rather than a burning.

And when I sat down at the end of that half-an-hour, to steaming broth with floating pieces of carrot and rice, smelling of chicken, I will tell you it was probably the most delicious delicacy I have ever devoured.

It had fragrance, taste and promise.

I’ve often wondered why I can’t return to that same fervency of appreciation.

Because on that day, a bowl of broth tasted to me like heavenly manna.

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Breadline

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Breadline: (n) a line of people waiting to receive free food.

I’ve actually said it out loud.

“I’m starved.”Dictionary B

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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