I had the privilege of helping serve Easter dinner to over 200 people in an area of town where many homeless are known to take shelter and the general population is poor. All the food was donated; all was cooked by volunteers. Ham, potatoes, gravy, green beans, salad, biscuits, a table piled high with desserts, tea, water, and punch were served to people of all ages, sizes, and colors who stood in a queue that moved slowly down the buffet line for over an hour.
I served between the green beans and the mashed potatoes, ladling gravy and offering a smile. Most people were grateful for a hot meal, some offered their thanks to each server along the food line, others were more expectant than thankful. But none left with hunger in their belly, and many left with plates of food for family or friends who couldn’t come personally or plates filled with leftovers to enjoy later.
Food insecurity… the new name for not having enough to eat, or not being sure from where your next meal will come… hunger. I’ve been known to say, “I’m so hungry” or “I’m starving” but I’ve never really known hunger. I’ve never had to worry about where to find my next meal. Even on my worst days — and there have been those — I, at very least, had something to eat.
But among those waiting in line was a small child, perhaps three or four years old, who was barely eye level to the table. He watched us serving. His mother held his plate and pointed to the foods her child preferred, denying the ones he didn’t like or wouldn’t eat. He made eye contact with me; he had huge brown eyes and long eyelashes and a look that melted my heart. During the serving a piece of meat had dropped off the side of someone’s plate, probably in the rush of passing it from one server to the next, and landed on the tablecloth. The child glanced at the meat then back at me and I nodded and smiled in response, and his little hand shot up to the table and grabbed the meat, a chunk that was big enough to overflow from his fist on both ends. He never smiled, and didn’t immediately eat the food, but the look on his face and his expression will stay with me for a long time.
Most little children might react as he did if the item on the table were a small, brightly-colored toy. But this child, this small boy with the huge eyes was grateful for a chunk of meat lying unnoticed and forgotten on the serving table.
I count it a blessing to serve and I enjoy the people in line, especially those who engage in a little conversation. But nothing will ever top one special little boy when I saw him clutching that meat in his small fist, and my heart will never be the same.
Matthew 25:40— “And the king shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, in as much as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”