HUNGER

(GOOGLE IMAGES 2017)

Mom and I have been traveling around. Before the weather here sets in, day after day of rain. Don’t get me wrong; I think the rain is what sets this place apart from other parts of the country.  It rains incessantly and the ground merely soaks it up.  For a while, about 2 hours after the rain stops, it sits like a lake in the drive until the sand opens up and sucks it down like everything else.   I am not complaining, as it is beautiful here, trees and birds and green undergrowth. 

 We also live on the water.  I have grown up in homes with view windows either looking to the water or a pastoral of some sort.  A few times I have lived in homes where I had to look at 4 walls;only walls, or the street  It makes someone like me feel closed in. 

When I was first married my husband and I rented a little house on a hill that had one large window.  It did look at the water from way back yet had an expansiveness as it was on a hilltop.  Yet the rest of the windows were small and the house was so old the wires in the dug out dirt garage had fabric covers on them.   It was a dangerous place. 

I awoke one day to a fire flaming above my head. The wall plug was old fashioned and would not handle the 220 draw of a waterbed heater.  I was screaming as I recall, yet still beating the flame out with my pillow. After that we moved. We bought a little single wide down the hill on its own land.  I could not see myself in a park.  It was even hard in those days to buy a manufactured home. (Stigma)

 However, we wanted our own place, like most newly weds do.  It wasn’t long after that my husband lost his job,and we were picking up aluminum cans to buy food and make our house payment. 

My story continues, my mom and I went to Oregon this time and while traveling we stopped before having lunch at a rest stop. She got out of the car in ahead of me and we walked down the path to the ladies room. 

Then we saw a young man sitting beside the walk with a sign that read, “Hungry and Homeless,” written in a black crayon. Mom asked  him questions about why he felt he was there and discussed his homelessness and I went on around her to the ladies room, as I had to go NOW!! (Dam coffee…)

I relieved myself and went back to the car on my way past I volunteered my lunch to that same young man and he said yes he would have it.  I walked on back to the car for it.   Mom passed me as I was giving him his lunch.  We walked together to the car and went on our way to adventure.  

By the way, we ended up being caught in traffic the likes of which I'd never seen in a very long time. Some adventure:  
  We sat and sat in the car for hours until we almost ran out of gas.  It was madness.

 Finally we found a fueling station in the middle of the tattoo and purple hair town we had to pay 3.50 a gallon for regular!!

This baby faced gas pumper, half shaven tattooed boy declared, “we are the most expensive place in town.”   

Again, trying not to run over a papa smurf with blue hair, I gun the gas to resume a place in line.

Mom turns to me and said, "That was nice of you to give that young man your lunch.I prayed the sinners prayer with him and he accepted Christ into his heart.” “What! How could you have done that? When did you do that? I was just in the bathroom for a minute,”I said. 

She smiled. 


At that moment my respect for my mother soared to new heights.  All I had done was give my lunch to a hungry soul, whereas my mother gave him the bread of life.