“Why don't you be my guest at the Harvesters' Luncheon and Fashion Show?” Pamela asks me one day. “It’s a charity event, in support of the Second Harvest Food Bank.” And that's how I, the daughter of an itinerant preacher, find myself seated in a lavishly decorated tent in Newport Beach, surrounded by some of Orange County’s most affluent women.
I stare in wide-eyed wonderment at the $500.00 per-ticket meal in front of me. Minnow-sized filet of Chilean Sea Bass, perched on slivers of au gratin potatoes. A side dish of asparagus—three pencil-thin spears, to be exact. My stomach growls, and I’m embarrassed. No doubt, my cheeks are as red as the discount stickers on the bottoms of my new shoes.
The chandelier dims, and a waifish little girl appears on the projection screen, alongside the caption: Do You Know The Face of Hunger? Her clothes are torn, and she stares into the distance with vacant eyes, as if clinging to the hollow safety of her thoughts.
I recognize instantly the world-weary look in her liquid brown eyes, and when she dabs tinted foundation on her brother’s chickenpox blisters so he can take advantage of the school lunch program, my stomach twists with remembered pain. The silk-draped walls disappear, replaced in that moment by sawdust and canvas. I know this girl, I say to myself, I know her story.
I’m writing that story now. Or polishing it, to be more precise, which is why I wheeled my roadster to Second Harvest Food Bank a few weeks back. An abandoned Navy facility, the warehouse has been updated, expanded and refurbished, thanks to charitable individuals and corporations. I am here to watch the video again, and to verify my notes. But I come away with so much more.
As one of the staff members leads me around the warehouse, I am awestruck by the outpouring of generosity represented there. So much nutritious, delicious food in one place…I swear, the little girl in me feels as if her knees might buckle.
I describe for Meredith the hunger I experienced growing up. We relied on government subsidies, I say, like bulgur and cheese. Free lunch tickets and food stamps, which extracted a price we couldn’t always pay. We ate the crumbs off other people’s tables: stale cornflakes and limp vegetables; leftover cornbread, drowned in a sea of powdered milk. Church suppers were wonderful—we feasted on noodle casseroles and layered Jello salads until we fell into a satisfied stupor. And when the occasional Good Samaritan stopped by, we gorged ourselves on preacher’s cake and ‘nana pudding. Feast and famine, that was my story.
Truth be told, I say, the face of hunger haunts me even now. I squirrel away food for a rainy day, eat more than I sometimes should; and though I'm now blessed with abundance, I can’t seem to shake that niggling fear that this next meal might be my last. I see her reflection every single day, mirrored in the faces of my neighbors. Immigrants who huddle near the hardware store, hoping for work; the Vietnam vet who sells oranges near the freeway on-ramp; an entire family, spirited away in the middle of the night because they couldn’t afford their mortgage. I ache for them, and I’m glad Second Harvest makes food available to anyone and everyone–no strings attached, save for the ties that bind us all together.
Funny, isn’t it, how life sometimes brings us full circle? When Meredith asked me to tell my story at Second Harvest’s “No Lunch” Lunch today, I instantly agreed. I'm deeply honored, but truth be told, I'm also a bit frightened. It’s the first time I’ve spoken about all this in public. I’m praying my hands won’t shake, that my voice won't tremble. I want so much to be invisible, to allow “the face of hunger” to take center stage. It's an awareness event, but it's also a fund-raiser. High stakes. I see it as an opportunity to give back to everyone who fed that hungry little girl, a chance to break bread with those who recognize that hunger lives next door, still and always. An outpouring of my heart…from “the least of them,” in gratitude.
Dear Melodye, this just so touched me this morning. Thank you for sharing your story and your heart with us and with the good people at the fund-raiser. Your knees may shake a little, but your heart, so full and strong will shine. Hugs and love to you.
Love and blessings Melodye! you are not “the face of hunger” you are the FACE OF HOPE! the FACE that says these hungry children are going to be fabulous adults. I know you will bring your full heart to that podium, and that is always best.
xoxo
No lunch
I have no doubt the rich ladies will dig deep into their purses, once you make them weep. You go girl!!!!
What a lovely post–thank you.
Oh, good luck, Melodye! And I’m so glad you’re speaking. It can be very hard to speak out on something that is so personal and so painful. But think on this: you are speaking for people (like you as a child) who had no voice. Who are IN it right now and can’t get the word out to those who can help because they don’t know how. Think of yourself as if you were JK Rowling–I was there, I KNOW what it’s like, and I have a voice that can help someone else who is still in that situation.
And hugs. Lots of them!
Melodye, my dear friend, your stories are so incredibly touching, moving and real. You know exactly how to touch a person’s heart and make them *think*… the things we take for granted, others go without. You know both sides of that coin and you know exactly how to move people with your stories. You have an incredibly beautiful soul, one that lights up a room and fills people with hope.
I know you’re nervous but you are going to be amazing, beautiful and gracious, as you always are. And you are going to be doing so much good for so many. People who will never have the chance to thank you in person for all you have done and are doing for them. But I know you’re the kind of person who will do it and do it again and again without need for thanks. And that is a wonderful thing.
Your story will move people and will help so many. Though frightened, you are going to be amazing. Believe that. Your journey has led you to this point… a place where you have the ability to touch people’s lives and really provide for them. You’re doing a wonderful thing.
Take a deep breath and just keep that girl’s face in your mind. You got this, my friend. You will be wonderful.
Good luck with your speech today, Melodye. Not that you will need it. And good for you for putting a face to hunger for those present, many of whom assume (wrongly) that it’s limited to the homeless and those on the fringes.
Many, many hugs. And I am so very proud of you.
Melodye, you are such a fantastic, moving writer. I hope you let me read your memoir when it’s ready. I’ve been waiting for years!
proud of you
Melodye, I have no doubt you’ll speak from your very big heart and move people. If your voice trembles now and then, people will know that’s from the hungry, beautiful girl inside you. So many people know two worlds — or more. I couldn’t imagine someone speaking to that with more power than you. xo
Beautifully written, passionately felt. Thank you for this!
Thank you for answering Meredith’s call, sharing your experience with those donors, and sharing the experience with us.
I’ll tell you: I’ve never known want, and yet for as long as I can remember, hunger’s been a shadow I feel, the element of poverty that grips me most viscerally. Maybe that’s just natural. But I feel it in my gut and bones when you tell about it, and when others who’ve experienced it tell about it.
“I’ll tell you: I’ve never known want, and yet for as long as I can remember, hunger’s been a shadow I feel, the element of poverty that grips me most viscerally.”
Me, too! I cannot bear the thought that anyone in this world goes hungry.
Second Harvest is one of the groups I’ve supported, and reading your entry today, Melodye, makes me reaffirm my commitment to it.
A poignant story, beautifully written, bravely shared ~ a timely reminder, in this week of Thanksgiving, that there are still little children, or whole families, hoping daily for a minnow-sized morsel of food, that hunger really does live next door, and that we need to keep our eyes and our hearts wide open.
Wow
Chills as I read this, Melodye… you are a truly gifted writer. Thank you for sharing your story here and in your book. Blessed healing to you. 🙂
Thank you for sharing your moving story with us. You are a brave and generous soul.
Thanks for sharing this, Melodye. I feel that everyone else has said it better than I ever could, but you were born to do this and the world is blessed to have a voice like yours speaking up for an issue like this one.
We were poor, but we always had food. Always — and always enough of it. I have heard, however, that many people who were starved once feel similarly…it’s hard to learn a new habit. I hope your talk went well — I’m sure it did. Your compassion and understanding and gentleness goes so far, Melodye!
full circle
They couldn’t have found a more suitable, more effective, more eloquent speaker. I’m sure you wowed the audience. 🙂
You have so much grace and courage, Melodye. I’m honored and lucky to know you.
You succeeded in completely choking me up this morning. I do take so many things for granted. I may have had a difficult childhood in many respects, but I never, not once, had to go hungry; in fact, we were one of those “you are not leaving the table till you finish” families” even if it meant sitting there till eight p.m. How many children would’ve given the WORLD to have been ordered to finish those heaping plates?
Thanks for this beautiful, touching, and timely post, my friend. xox
What Laura said, dear Melodye, you are the face of hope.
I always had enough to eat and for that, I am very grateful.
I know this was your upbringing but whenever I read your words it never ceases to make my heart ache for you, and for every hungry person in the world. I can’t think of a more eloquent or generous spokesperson than you, Melodye. I know with every ounce in my being that when you spoke, you reached each heart in that audience.