Hungry

Recently I was having Sunday brunch with family at a popular little place in the more upscale part of our county.

I just happened to be looking out the window at the tables outside, two of which were recently vacated, but not cleared. This is the type of place where they give you the pot when you order coffee.

The place was pretty crowded and there were many people milling around out there waiting for a table. I watched as a guy walked up to the table, poured coffee into one of the used cups and sat down to drink it. He moved to the other table still drinking his coffee and then he got up, dropped off the coffee cup and picked up a half eaten sandwich.

When I shared what I was witnessing, my brother told a story of how back in school he once saw a kid take food that was left on top of the trash in the lunchroom. It made me glad it was my sensitive brother that witnessed this and not another kid who may have ridiculed him. My brother said it made him think that although we had some pretty “lean” years growing up, we never went hungry. Oh, there were days when a Devil Dog was all there was for dinner, but we always try to see the humorous side when talking about those years. That said, I’d pretty much kill to be that weight and be able to eat Devil Dogs for dinner now.

At the risk of stereotyping, the guy in the restaurant did not look particularly homeless. Maybe he had mental problems, or an addiction, or maybe he was just hungry, but I’m still thinking about him and feeling grateful for how our lives turned out.