New acronym in my Lexicon: IDKAY (ĬD-kā) = I Don’t Know About You.
This is the first time that I have posted a YouTube video that I am urging you to watch only a small portion of. (“No pun intended.” You’ll understand why I added those three words after watching the video.) Only the first 1-1/2 minutes is necessary. The rest you can just delete to your nearest trash bin.
The following video is one that you should watch in its entirety. If you can stand it. It is very hard for me to understand the video above in light of the following one:
I am not going to subject you, my Gentle Readers, to the rant that is currently burning within me, because I feel like the videos speak for themselves. I will say that some time ago I remarked to one of our sons that I thought that the whole idea of a television program (apparently very popular) that glorifies the overindulgence in food – just for the H*** of it – is to me an obscenity. He told me to “lighten up!” I tried. I just can’t. (Both videos, really, are obscenities, but of two entirely different orders.) Too many children – too many people of any age – are dying every day for me to make light of the fact that those same people would likely be able to live if they had only a tiny fraction of the food that the people on that program are eating. Remember, those people are eating all that food not because they need it, but just because they can. And they are celebrating that waste.
One more thought. If I point my finger everywhere else and fail to include myself among the guilty, I am committing a greater sin. Back in the late 1970’s and early 1980’s, when the refugees from Indochina were starting to be brought into the United States, our church sponsored a Laotian family, who had lived for a while in one of the many refugee camps in Thailand. My parents were host to the family of four, The Khammanivongs, for about 1 year. My folks opened their home to them, helped them to learn English, helped them to find jobs, helped them find a home of their own. It was a wonderful experience for all of us.
Hubs and I visited frequently, and brought along our two little boys, Josh and Matt. I loved watching Thoumma cook, and learning her recipes. She was (and still is) a gifted woman. With a small chicken in the fridge, Thoumma, one evening, decided to make dinner for us all (eight, plus two children). I wanted to help her, but I mostly just watched. She boiled the chicken. Once it had cooled enough, she deboned the chicken. The deboning took her the better part of two hours. If I were to tell you that there was once single scrap of anything edible on those bones, I would be lying.
I went to take the bones and dispose of them. She stopped me in my tracks. She grabbed back the bones, and broke each one into at least two pieces, whereupon she put them back into the pot where they had originally boiled, and boiled them down. There was absolutely nothing left on or in the bones, when I was finally allowed to dispose of them. I remember crying as I watched her work. I saw myself tossing turkey and chicken carcasses into the trash – with enough nourishment on them to have fed many, many more people. If I had been mindful, we could have fed ourselves many more meals, and saved ourselves some money to boot, but I was not mindful. I wish I could say that I had learned the lesson. I still catch myself throwing food away. I ask forgiveness from all those who are starving for lack of what I throw away. There is no excuse for my wanton waste. None. (And just feeling guilty does nothing – for them or me! Behavior has to change, or the lessons are still lost.)
There is more than enough food in the world to feed the world. Starvation is largely the product of poor distribution, a lack of sharing. I am reminded of the quotation attributed to St. Francis of Assisi: “There is enough for all.” Having enough is everything. Having enough is all we need. The poor, the wealthy; the starving and the overfed – all that is needed is enough. I wish all of you, my Gentle Readers, such abundance. The abundance of enough. . .
P.S. I remember being delighted and astounded one afternoon when the two Khammanivong children got home from grade school, and Thoumma gave them their favorite snack: a large romaine lettuce leaf. They thought they were in heaven!