Every Fourth Sunday

This past Sunday at our Friends Meeting, the First Day School youth group prepared food to take to a local park to feed the hungry. It is part of the Food Not Bombs effort that feeds the hungry in our closest "Big City" every Sunday afternoon at 1 pm. This was the first time my family participated. Everyone who shows up for a meal is given a number and are served according to that order. No one is turned away. However, if you have one of the last numbers, it is more likely than not that very little food is left on the table as you make your way through the line.

The food preparation portion the effort energized all the kids. The physical act of serving food to the hungry was not embraced by all of them. My boys were a bit reticent about serving food at the park. They all hung back and watched as their sisters and the other youth stepped up to the table to serve food to the many, many folks who had shown up for a meal. As you can imagine, many of those in need of a good, full meal were a bit off putting visually. It was obvious that many were homeless and had not had access to a hot shower in days. Many were suffering from the lack of even the most basic medical or dental care. Others were struggling with mental health issues.

As Noodle12 and Politician10 watched from the background, they slowly warmed up to the idea of stepping up to the tables to serve the food they had prepared. First cautiously and then more enthusiastically, they began spooning food on to plates and engaging in conversation with the folks holding their plates out. There were many "please and thank you"s, many sincere and friendly questions asked of my children, and much smiling and laughter from both sides of the table. The day was a pleasant sunny spring day. Music played in the background. Some folks danced. Men played chess. The distinction between those serving and those being served was not always clear. The overall atmosphere bordered on festive.

I knew for my adopted children, this would be an experience that I was not sure how they would handle. All of them spent their early years chronically undernourished. Politician10 often tells me of the grass and tree bark they would eat just to get something into their stomach to quell their severe hunger pains. I was a bit worried about the memories this encounter might bring to the surface for them. On the other hand, I believe they have a unrealistic impression of America. They have known since they day they got here, that hunger is no longer a concern for them. There is more food than they could possibly eat. They mistakenly assume this is true for all Americans. They have been unaware that people can and are also hungry in America. Throughout the afternoon they showed no outward signs that they had made the connection between their early experiences with hunger and what they were witnessing on this particular Sunday afternoon.

As the afternoon wrapped up and the last few folks made it through the line, I felt Politician10 tug at my shirt sleeve. He whispered, "Momma the last people through the line are a man with children and there just isn't enough food for them. What can we do?" I glanced over to see a young father with three young children probably close to the ages my Ethiopian children were when they came to us. I watched as the last bits of food were being portioned out between their four plates. Where plates had been piled with food earlier in the day, these plates had small heaps of food that did not even cover the bottom of the plates. I reached for my purse only to realize that I had left it in the car. I suggested that Politician10 speak to his father about how to handle the situation. Politician10 and his father decided they would offer him some money. They approached him and remarked to him that they had noticed that he and his children had not gotten much food. They asked him if he would accept some money so that he could buy more food for himself and his children. The man smiled and said, "Yes, that would be most appreciated."

I have no idea if Politician10 saw the similar circumstances between this man and his Ethiopian father. I have no idea if Politician10 saw his and his sisters' plight in the faces of these three young children. I can only suspect that he did. I know I did. I also know that he wasted no time in taking action. Although none of my children articulated this, I believe they learned in that hour or so that people are people. They saw and experienced the inherent dignity and worth in every person. They have all asked when we will be going back to do this again. My answer is as often as we can and certainly every Fourth Sunday with the First Day School youth group.