Monday, September 05, 2005
Zane Thor @ the breadline
Today I stood in a bread line as a volunteer watching as people came in for a meal. I sat watching each person trying to understand why people where in this particular situation. It’s curious watching able body people getting a hand out. You start to wonder is this a self inflicted wound that they are unable to pull themselves from. Surely with an unemployment rate of less then 5% it seems that getting a job would be simple. Yet here they are standing in a line waiting to be served what will be for some their only meal of the day.
Although the place was bright and well lit it seemed to be dark. Dark in spirit people hung their heads weary of what the day had brought. The well lit cafeteria had a deafening silence that seemed to fill the room. People spoke but only in whispers as if by some unwritten agreement this was not a place for jovial activity. sporadically someone with a loud voice would enter and say hello to their fellows with a smile. Even these people emit a bit of depression to me. They seemed to be happy with their lot in life, as if the person with the capacity to be a king would find a hand out OK to them. I was confronted with that idea, whom should I greave, the ones whom came because they knew this was the only place they could eat? Or the ones whom seem to relinquish their lives to this fate.
On occasions some happy and excited individual would come in calling out names to those he knew. They waived in return and gave a polite smile. Their was a bright spot a lady full of life in a wheel chair offered a prayer over the food and it’s “bounty”. I found that word in the this situation to be bleak or even mocking.
It struck me that in this dismal place their was a sense of community. People knew each other, they knew who they were and what their situation was. They knew which of them would be open to discussion and which needed their isolation. Even among them their seemed to be a “bully” someone whom gave counsel when none was requested, whom poked fun at others, picked on children teasingly as parents watched. He even seemed to break that silence that occupied the place before he arrived not with happiness but with a arrogance that said: “I’ll do what I want when I want“.
As things where closing down a family came in. A father a mother and several children. The father’s normally tall body was slouched his head hung staring at the floor. The mother looked as if this was not something she was used to. She held her year old daughter close to her as if afraid that someone would steal that beautiful child from her arms. Another daughter, seven or eight, stood close as they received their food looking wide eyed at those around her. Their son slightly older smiled a big smile as he received his brownie. They took their plates to a table and sat and ate. The mother with her youngest in her lap and the father not looking at anyone. Children quietly enjoying what may have been their only meal for the day. It was this scene that chilled my bones. As if watching Exorcist for the first time, the fear came from deep within me and seemed to swallow me. My urge was to run from the building crying as a child. I stood with that picture in my mind, not the picture of those actually sitting their but of me and my family seated at that table. My wife clinging to our youngest eating everything on the plate with hunger born of not having a meal for 24 hours, of not know where the next plate of food would come from.
I’ve always considered myself a independent person. I know my family would take me in with open arms. I know that there is always a place for me and my family. But still it’s the hope and desire to be more then what I currently am. It possible for us to be greater tomorrow then we are today if we continually to push our limits.
Although the place was bright and well lit it seemed to be dark. Dark in spirit people hung their heads weary of what the day had brought. The well lit cafeteria had a deafening silence that seemed to fill the room. People spoke but only in whispers as if by some unwritten agreement this was not a place for jovial activity. sporadically someone with a loud voice would enter and say hello to their fellows with a smile. Even these people emit a bit of depression to me. They seemed to be happy with their lot in life, as if the person with the capacity to be a king would find a hand out OK to them. I was confronted with that idea, whom should I greave, the ones whom came because they knew this was the only place they could eat? Or the ones whom seem to relinquish their lives to this fate.
On occasions some happy and excited individual would come in calling out names to those he knew. They waived in return and gave a polite smile. Their was a bright spot a lady full of life in a wheel chair offered a prayer over the food and it’s “bounty”. I found that word in the this situation to be bleak or even mocking.
It struck me that in this dismal place their was a sense of community. People knew each other, they knew who they were and what their situation was. They knew which of them would be open to discussion and which needed their isolation. Even among them their seemed to be a “bully” someone whom gave counsel when none was requested, whom poked fun at others, picked on children teasingly as parents watched. He even seemed to break that silence that occupied the place before he arrived not with happiness but with a arrogance that said: “I’ll do what I want when I want“.
As things where closing down a family came in. A father a mother and several children. The father’s normally tall body was slouched his head hung staring at the floor. The mother looked as if this was not something she was used to. She held her year old daughter close to her as if afraid that someone would steal that beautiful child from her arms. Another daughter, seven or eight, stood close as they received their food looking wide eyed at those around her. Their son slightly older smiled a big smile as he received his brownie. They took their plates to a table and sat and ate. The mother with her youngest in her lap and the father not looking at anyone. Children quietly enjoying what may have been their only meal for the day. It was this scene that chilled my bones. As if watching Exorcist for the first time, the fear came from deep within me and seemed to swallow me. My urge was to run from the building crying as a child. I stood with that picture in my mind, not the picture of those actually sitting their but of me and my family seated at that table. My wife clinging to our youngest eating everything on the plate with hunger born of not having a meal for 24 hours, of not know where the next plate of food would come from.
I’ve always considered myself a independent person. I know my family would take me in with open arms. I know that there is always a place for me and my family. But still it’s the hope and desire to be more then what I currently am. It possible for us to be greater tomorrow then we are today if we continually to push our limits.
