our daily bread

A lot of us will never know the meaning of a meal.
We get them everyday. We usually get 3. And a lot of times we get snacks and desserts too. By any standard, this is high living.
But I don't really realize this too often, and I bet a lot of people don't; I mean, you can't blame us because a lot of times it's really hard to see how things would be unless you could physically become part of that situation.
But in the newspaper today, my mom showed me an article about a woman whose husband lost his job and now they are struggling to pay for food and they are waiting for donations. Last night she had to feed her kids tuna and ketchup for dinner because all that they have left are some cans of tuna and some condiments. They eat lunch and breakfast at school because it's free for them.
And this is in America. In fact, it's in the area around where I live.
And if America is struggling, what's the rest of the world like?
A lot worse that tuna and ketchup.
Try no food at all. A lot of people go to sleep with pains from an empty, void, stomach and hoping that tomorrow will be better.
But tonight, I went out to dinner with my brother, sister, and mom and we had soups and bread; simple, but it was really, really good and it was food. A meal that we all liked and that left us feeling full (in a good way).
Ever had that really awful feeling when your stomach hurts because you haven't had something to eat in several hours? What if those hours were days? That's why I'm just really thankful for meals. For not having to worry if there is enough or not, or having to travel far to find food.
We always see pictures of people from Africa who are starving. And we are all glad they are not us. But really, they didn't choose to be there. And we didn't choose to be here. And whose to say that couldn't have been us?