The Journal Writings of M'Lady
When I look back at the highlights of my life, I must also consider those memories that have brought me along the furthest. Unbeknownst to me, they were the precise situations in which the Lord has used to bring me closer unto Himself. If I drew upon my own strength during those times, I inevitably fell into depression and isolation. They are the situations that others looked upon in immense horror.
My life has been filled with an overwhelming amount of times in insurmountable pain, sadness and suffering. As I look back on my life, I can honestly say that I am grateful some periods are over, and saddened other periods have ended. I am however, looking forward to today and tomorrow, where I can experience an endless amount of trust and peace knowing, wherever I am, the Lord is with me. May I go through the remainder of my life having peace in knowing whatever happens, He will see me through it. Yes, He will allow certain events to occur, yet will never leave me nor forsake me. It is in knowing this that tomorrow is no longer anticipated in great anxiety and horror.
My parents divorced when I was three years old. My mother was 21 years old and lacked professional training. With 3 little mouths to feed, it is understandable to see how we immediately fell below the poverty level.
My mother gained employment at the convalescent hospital my grandmother worked at. They both worked in the kitchen where we benefited from the stolen leftover food she brought home in the large silver pots and trays. On many occasions there were no delights to fill our stomachs. My sister was still in diapers and was cared for by a neighbor at the dilapidated duplex we moved into. My brother and I, however, were left alone to fend for ourselves when my mother was working.
All day long, my 5 year old brother and I entertained ourselves. We spent much of the time double checking the kitchen for any remnants of food.
It is at this time, I remember having learned that the basic necessities of life were a privilege. It is also at this time, I remember ***
*** My brother and I would exit the small apartment out the back door through our barren, brown yard, to the chain link fence which led down a dirt path to the connecting yards. This is where the metal trash cans with the awkward lids were kept.
My brother would lift the heavy lids and would assess the discarded items left in the trash cans. I sometimes waited impatiently as he would rummage through them. When he would announce there was nothing in this one, I would protest, wanting to be lifted up to see for myself. On some occasions he would lift me, so I in return, could rummage through, only finding what he had said was true. My small, uncoordinated hands would lift crinkled paper, empty food boxes and sometimes filthy items... The odor was always a great indicator of what would be found. Other times, he would ignore my protest and walk ahead to the next yard leaving me next to the trash can in total discontent and disbelief.
We would walk from yard to yard until just the right can was found. The first time I remember my brother found corn on the cob, it was in great abundance! He grabbed at it and started to eat. I frantically reached and reached for his hands at his mouth. He radically pushed my hands away as he quickly took bites from his corn cob. I protested, stating that I wanted some. He quickly reached into the can pointing towards an entire area filled with the yellow vegetable. He handed one to me and I too raced it to my mouth.
We ate that day, giggling and conversing as would stood around the cans of our gold mine! As we finished each one, we would throw them onto the ground, immediately looking over the side of the can, reaching for another. We quickly grabbed our next choice. It was amazing to ponder why they had thrown so much away and why they didn't want it. As our selection diminished, the amount of bites previously taken by the rightful owners, increased leaving smaller amounts for us to consume. Soon, our feast was finished. What a delight I hold that day in my memory... What joy it was to find so much to eat...
I remember shortly after that day, going back to the same cans. As we lifted the lids in great expectation, again cobs were revealed, however, the corn had all been eaten. I remember we rummaged through trying to find a piece that held any small amount of the tasty vegetable. Finally we had each chosen a piece. Holding the cob to my mouth, I tried to find any corn remnants. I watched what my brother was doing. I, in return, repeatedly secreated my saliva back and forth through my front teeth, locking my lips onto the eaten cob. The flavor remained! I scraped my teeth along the moistened cob trying to excavate any leftover fragments. Again and again, my teeth scraped along the well cleaned corn cob, trying desperately to gain any chewable substance. This time the cobs found themselves quickly on the dirty ground as we in turn tried to find another piece with any remaining food. Soon, we both walked away totally discouraged as our little stomachs continued to growl. The flavor, however, did little for the pain.
I remember one time we had lifted the lids of someone's cans to find that their trash had evidently been spilled onto the ground. Once again, there were corn cobs! This time, the cobs were filled with dirt and ants. I tried to push the light brown dirt off the corn with my finger tips. It was to no avail. The dirt filled the crevices between the half eaten kernels. I tried pushing the ants off only to find more ants were quickly crawling onto the part I had just cleaned. I winced and cried out in agony. I was so hungry. I just wanted something to eat. I tried and tried to get the ants of my piece. Then I leaned my head over my corn, with tears flowing down my cheeks, and spat saliva onto my corn trying to clean it off. I could see some remnants of some kernels well enough to take a few attempted bites....
I remember on one our hunting trips, an older woman yelled from her back door "to get away... to go on!" I was filled with fear, knowing they were her trash cans we were ransacking. I remember thinking she wanted it for herself. It was OK. There was nothing to eat in her cans, anyway! And then she yelled out, asking what we were doing. We started running towards home, when she told us, "No, come here." We both stopped, thinking we were in trouble for searching through her cans. She encouraged us further, telling us "Come on, I'll get you something to eat." She didn't have a calming voice. It was more like a confused and irritated voice. I remember thinking she mustn't like her trash on the ground.
We entered her yard cautiously. I questioned what she might to do to us. As we reached her back door, she in return entered her house. The kitchens were located right inside the back door.
My brother and I engaged in a bit of small talk as we heard the woman preparing something in the kitchen. Almost immediately she returned with a plate for each of us. On each of the plates sat an uncut sandwich. We each grabbed our sandwich and immediately began to gobble erratically.
I remember the woman saying something about not eating so fast. I remember pressing the sandwich hard against my face as if it would assist in being eaten quicker. My stomach hurt so badly! I didn't recognize the contents of the sandwich, although thinking it was the kind parents ate. It made no difference to me at the time, only being concerned that the bread helped the pain somewhat subside. She held small talk as we rushed through the food, though neither of us stopped to answer. Nervously, I repeatedly looked from her to my brother not noticing what she was saying.
When we had finished, she hurriedly urged to us, "Now go on." We both ran from her yard through the same back gate we had entered. I looked back to see her still on her small back steps with a continued confused look on her face, watching where we were running to.
Oh, to be physically starving! What pain and confusion one must bare! The endless searching for food consumes your thoughts and hours in your day! One aimlessly searches for something to eat! What garbage one will eat to fill the hunger pangs -- garbage ravaged with filth and rodents! When parents have no sustenance for themselves how can they fill the unending hunger of their children?
Throughout the world, starvation consumes its inhabitants -- starvation; physically and spiritually. Spiritually starving people wonder aimlessly searching for sustanance to quench the pangs that grip their souls. Confused and disillusioned, they consume lies where they imagine truth abounds. They search through filth hoping to find peace, forgiveness and joy only to be captivated by worthlessness. They eat the leftovers meant for dumpyards. They become collectors of trash and garbage dissatisfied with holy and divine mementos in their lives. Their lives become a wasteyard, reflecting steps previously taken.
How can we not feed the hungry? Can we not offer plates of eternally living words, followed with the dessert of agape love? Can we not see them for what they are; hungry for eternal life, undying love and our Living God? Are we too busy to stop and see the hungry eyes peering before us, while their begging in our offices, markets, banks and churches? Are we so selfish with our overfilled pantries of forgiveness that we will not offer the same meal to another? Perhaps the starving soul already attends your church. They posses the utensils, pot and pans and a working oven, but only need the recipe. Will we not offer the same recipe of eternal life to one who may be more than willing to cook? Can we not direct these aimless searchers to an eternal destination of peace and rest showered in His Glory? Be lead how to offer them eternal food! God will show them how to eat...
by christine carpenter
- Be joyul always; pray continuosly; give thanks in all circumstances for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.
- 1 Thes. 5:16 NIV
Date this page was last edited: Tuesday, March 09, 1999
