I sometimes take my childhood for granted. I often forget how lucky I am.
Tonight I went to the grocery store after Paul and Ellie went to sleep. This was a mid-week run for things we are out of, like milk; luxury items I wanted, like the brand of disposable diapers that hold in Ellie's antibiotics-related diarrhea; and expensive, brand-name packaged foods that tempted me. Pickles? How about crisp dill Claussens from the cooler? Yummmmmm.
It was 10:30 on a school night, and I was surprised by the number of children there. There were a lot of children there.
I know that dealing with 3 young children, limited funds, and a workaholic husband was not easy for my mother. But she kept us on a regular schedule and we had predictable, ordered lives. We were always well-rested and fed for school in the morning, whether we wanted to be or not.
How might my experience have been different if I had been going to school after spending a good portion of my should-have-been-sleeping hours out running errands? Waking up with cartoons and junk food? I can imagine. And it makes me feel a bit less proud of my accomplishments: I had a huge leg up.
In the checkout line, the young Asian man two people behind me was nervously buying a corkscrew and two long-stemmed light pink roses. The middle-aged blond man in a gray Nike t-shirt just behind me was picking up Soap Opera Digest.
And the woman just in front of me, shopping with her two-year-old, used her bank card to buy a single sippy cup. She had to run her card through several times, watching the screen oh-so-closely to see the "Approved" pop up. Then she had the cashier ring through the rest of her order separately: 5 cans of formula with a WIC certificate casually lying on top.
I had been smiling at the mom and waving to the little girl. After I noticed what they were buying, my eyes kept straying back to the huge pile of packaged, brand-name foods on my side of the little plastic bar.
Physical pain.
So often, I think of the things that I want but don't have.
So often, I intellectualize poverty, or try to forget it altogether for a while.
Because thinking about it, really thinking about it, and thinking about how I myself benefit from it and contribute to it, hurts really badly.
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6 comments:
Well, I can tell you from the other side of the fence as the mom with the WIC tickets and a basket full of little or nothing.
I have often times stood in line behind the person with the full basket of brand named foods and wished that it was my order. I watched the person load them onto the counter, wondering what that person does for a living, how many children they have, and what I could have done differently. This is usually the most difficult when food in our house is at a minimum.
I have also been in front of a few people who have watched as most of my children and I complete our transaction. As my children continue to comment on all the goodies at the register that they wish that they had (but don’t need), and heard them say something like “My God” or “Why does she have all those children if she cannot afford them”.
We all make choices in our life, I never anticipated being a single mother of five living in poverty, but this is my position in this world now. I do what I can to manage with what I have and I don’t expect anyone to feel sorry for me, nor do I anticipate handouts just because I am poor.
I count my blessings daily, as I know that life could be much worse than it is for me now. I have so many things to be thankful for like having a roof over our head in a safe community, and five beautiful children who have adjusted to living a life we never anticipated without too much complaint. If there is one thing I am sure of, they will certainly be aware of the value of money when they become adults.
You should not feel guilty about what you have it is simply your position in this world too. It wouldn’t be fair for you to have less just so someone else could have more. Just as you realize this, there is someone else with even more-and someone else with even less considering the same thoughts as you are. The world is a rather unbalance place in terms of income and poverty, there is always someone in every category.
Sorry for the long comment :)
Sarahlynn,
What a painfully beautiful post. I love the way you so closely pay attention to the strangers around you in the store. Do you know how many of us don't even do that?
I also like the questions you ask. I've often wondered what would have become of me if I had been born to a strong, stable family...if I had been given better tools to succeed. I don't think I would have gotten pregnant at 16 years of age and I certainly wouldn't be 32 and STILL working toward my undergraduate.
How do I follow rnp? She said a lot I was going to say and so much more eloquently then I probably would have said it.
I will just add my 2 cents about late shopping with children. Granted Buddy is not in school yet so our schedule will probably change, but Buddy does not go to bed until 10:30-11:30pm. He also does not wake up until 9:30-10:30am. We think this is because Hubby works 12-15 hours a day, so Buddy has a late schedule in order to see his dada. If he had an earlier schedule, they wouldn't see each other at all. Sometimes we shop at the grocery store with Buddy late at night, and we have gotten some interesting looks. Just here to say there are some night owl toddlers out there who are well taken care of :-)
First, I just wanted to mention that a bunch of schools are already out for the summer, so some of those kids may have been in the early throes of freedom. Or shopping for stuff to go on vacation the next day (personal rememberance of all of the road trip coolers).
Second, I watched an ABC Primetime special on foster kids last night. When growing up I thought I came from a disfunctional family. Ha! I realize now what a wonderfully stable and loving and supportive family we really were. It made my heart break for those kids. I started thinking, we have a guest bedroom and second bath. We're both good with kids, willing to institute rules, knowing when to bend them. Shouldn't we pass forward the blessings that we were given? Dave was adopted as an infant and only spent a month in foster care. There but for the grace of god... Then I remembered that I'm still hunting for a job, wedding needs to be planned and actually implemented. But definitely something to consider a few years down the line, as a way for us to contribute to society and share our love.
Lovely, lovely, Sarahlynn. And RNP's comments are lovely and moving, too.
This puts me in mind of a great passage from Orwell's _Road to Wigan Pier_ (about the struggles of miners) in which he thinks through the common--even in the thirties--observation that miners weren't buying nutritious food. He agrees in principle--and does out a budget to show the difference between buying cheap veg and expensive prepared stuff--but then he reminds his complacent, lucky readers how much one wants "a little bit of tasty" when one is ground down by poverty.
I think about that all the time in line at the store.
RNP, I always appreciate your writing about about your experiences. So much.
But I don't know if I agree with the last part, about the guilt. Perhaps guilt itself is not a constructive emotion.
But I do not believe that money is simply ours to spend as we wish, with no restrictions. I mean - I believe that with great gifts come great responsibilities. I believe that hugely ostentatious displays of wealth in the face of poverty is just . . . wrong.
I'm guilty of some of it. I need to remind myself of the ways in which I should be grateful for what I have, and should be doing more to help others.
Jessica, I think you have succeeded. Very well, in fact.
Graymama, my schedule was similar as a young child. (And I often wonder if that's not why I'm still such a night owl.) My dad often didn't get home from work until quite late, so I stayed up until then, and slept in in the mornings. With Ellie, I made no effort to implement a schedule for a long, long time.
Flatflo, that's an awesome responsibility. Kudos to you for considering it! A friend of mine from work has been doing it for a few years; please let me know if you'd like me to hook you up with her to talk about it.
Thanks, PPB and Anne. The "little bit of tasty" line rings so true for me.
It's similar to to way I felt as I gained so much weight after Ellie was born. "This is hard. I deserve a little something . . . "
And it's true. Dealing with a sick child or poverty - or both. we certainly didn't have any "extra" when I wasn't working - is depressing and hard. And a "little tasty" is sometimes exactly what is needed.
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