Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

poverty

Where were they before now?

She was a woman with a cart full of groceries and hungry mouths to feed. The Last Hope

But during this trip to the grocery store, she left without paying.

And what happened next made headlines.

She was arrested for shoplifting, yes. But then the arresting officer went back into the grocery store and bought the woman $100 worth of groceries because the woman told her she had no food in her house and her kids were hungry.

“Desperate,” the headlines called her. A single mom. With hungry kids, kids who hadn’t seen food, much less eaten it, in too long.

Hungry enough to steal food and shown grace by a stranger.

—-

It happened in Florida, but it could have happened anywhere. Victor Hugo wrote about it 150 years ago. It’s a heartwarming story.

But it bothers me.

—-

The police officer was hailed a hero, and one story I read said the news got even better for the single mom: her story inspired others to give $700 toward food and she was offered a job.

Good news, indeed.

But here are my questions: Where were these people when the cameras were off? Where were the neighbors and the friends and the school personnel who might have known these kids were hungry? I say “might” because I know how easy it is to hide your struggles, even when it hurts so much you’re sure someone can see it on the outside. The woman was shoplifting food because she was desperate to feed her kids.

That’s not a situation that happens overnight.

Where were they?

Where are we?

Where am I?

—

While people — children, adults, elderly — go hungry, we bicker over politics. We shut down governments for reasons I still don’t understand. We argue about policy while people starve in their homes. In our country. Where it should be easiest for us to help.

We are quick to criticize corrupt governments who keep food and aid from their desperate, hungry, impoverished countrymen, but are we any better?

We debate who should receive food stamp assistance and for how long, as if we understand what it means to be poor. And we label those who struggle to make ends meet as “lazy” and create a Facebook group that makes fun of anyone on welfare. We’re outraged when we feel “our” money has been misused to buy food we don’t think poor people deserve.

And yet, we applaud a police officer who looked a desperate woman in the eyes and couldn’t turn her back.

Shame on us. We’re hypocrites.

And I speak for myself.

—

Jesus very clearly said we should give what we have to others. If we have two shirts, to give one away. A cup of cold water to someone “less.” To invite to dinner those who cannot invite us back.

My kids have more coats than they can wear. An abundance of clothes, toys, shoes and books. Our cupboards have food.

And the apostle John’s words condemn me.

If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? (1 John 3:17)

—

Long before she was desperate, she was needy.

And I wonder who saw and looked away.

—

But I can’t fault others without faulting myself.

I see them. The ones with needs I could meet.

And I don’t do it.

Maybe I’m scared of how they’ll react. Or I know what it’s like to be embarrassed by your needs and I don’t want to draw attention to it.

But the truth is we’re all needy. And we need each other. <Tweet this>

And it shouldn’t take a splashy headline news story for us to see it and to act.

Every day people are desperate and don’t know how to make ends meet and their stories don’t make the news. And every day there are people working to meet those needs and their stories don’t make the news.

I’m not telling you, or me, to do something newsworthy.

But do something.

Notice.

Care.

Give.

Share.

It might not be enough. It might not solve the problem. It might be the wrong thing.

But it’s something. And it might be just the thing that keeps the desperation at bay for another day.

Where there is darkness and light

I was slow to get moving yesterday, drinking coffee, waiting for laundry to dry, reading blogs and Facebook posts after taking our daughter to the bus. There was upsetting news about the government shutdown. About people not getting paid for their work. And about programs like WIC running out of funding until the shutdown is over. I thought of all the days we’ve relied on WIC to provide healthy, nourishing food for our family. I thought of how those who are food insecure would get a little more insecure with the news. How going to the grocery store is drudgery for me, especially when I’m using WIC checks because they take more time and there’s almost always a delay or a problem.

I left for the grocery store bearing burdens too heavy for my shoulders.

—

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters. Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light day, and the darkness He called night. And there was evening and there was morning, one day.

Genesis 1:1-5

light from darkness

Photo source: Carlos Koblischek via Stock Exchange

—

I pulled my van into the Aldi parking lot and dug out my quarter for the cart. I was mercifully alone on my grocery errand, the boy at home with his dad so I could be quick about restocking our shelves. I opened the hatch to find our reusable bags when the man with the broken English approached.

“You are going into the Aldi?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Come, follow me. I give you my cart free.”

I closed the back of the van and followed him to his car. I briefly wondered if this was wise but the parking lot was full and it was daylight. I watched him unpack a few things into his car. He gestured for me to take the cart. I held out my quarter and he shook his head.

“Thank you,” I said. “Have a great day.”

I walked into the store a little lighter for the kindness.

The days may be dark, but here was a glimmer of light.

—

I filled the cart, checking it against my list, grateful for the chance to take my time and make decisions slowly. I was halfway through the store when I noticed her. She was agitated and looking for her friend to borrow a phone. With her Access (food stamp) card in one hand, she furiously dialed and punched in numbers to check her balance. I’d made the same call a day earlier, checking to see if our monthly allotment had been distributed in the chaos of government bureaucracy. I’m forever fearful that I’ll get to the checkout with a cart full of groceries and not be able to pay because of a technological glitch.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as she was visibly upset with the result of her call. I don’t know the circumstances or lifestyle of the woman but I know what it is, at least in part, to stare at empty pantry shelves and wonder when and how you’re going to put a meal together.

My mind immediately leaps to the worst-case scenario, and as I looked at my cart, I wondered if maybe there was a problem after all and maybe I wouldn’t be able to pay for my groceries.

I walked on in faith, paid for my groceries and bagged them, grateful that another trip to the grocery store was done.

—

When I got to the car, I checked my phone. Even though it’s October and I’ve had less than a handful of calls from our daughter’s school, I’m still paranoid that she’ll need something during the day and I’ll miss the call.

I saw an e-mail instead. An urgent prayer request. A tragic loss.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

I said the words out loud.

In the beginning there was darkness. And there was light. And I wondered if God could have made a world without darkness.

—

I tire quickly of the darkness. I avoid the news. I keep to the safety of the neighborhoods I know. I shut my eyes to the horrors of the world because it is too much to bear. Too much darkness. Not enough light. Never enough light.

light candle

Photo source: Andrey Gorshkov via Stock Exchange

I tire quickly of my darkness, the black parts of my heart that seep out through my words and actions. I forget that the story doesn’t end with darkness.

You are the light of the world.

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light.

The city has no need of the sun or of the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God has illumined it, and its lamp is the Lamb.

—

In the beginning there was darkness. But the Spirit of God was moving. Light was being born.

There is darkness, yes, but there is light and it is us, and we are pushing back the darkness one kindness, one act of love at a time.