of these hungry children?
After a long day of work on Saturday, I finished my evening by attending a small program and dinner at a local park. The park was not too far from my neighborhood, but it was even closer to an apartment complex that boasts a sign saying "We accept Section 8."
When I arrived at the park I heard many sounds coming from the children playing on the swings. Most were the sounds of children enjoying the swings and giving each other a hard time. I even heard an occasional curse word or two spew out of the mouths of the young kids as I walked the path to the building.
The event, a parade of salads, was sponsored by a group that my mother belonged to, so I was obliged to be her guest of honor. The program was to last for about an hour, then the feast was to begin, and boy, was I ready to eat. I hadn't eaten since lunchtime - I was hungry and ready for the program to be over.
I had expressed my hunger to my mother, but she had assured me that the program would be short, and then I could eat. Her assurance was fine, but I had also assured her that if it wasn't, I would be going to McDonald's and would catch her after the program.
As always, my mother was right, and before long I was feasting on salads of all kinds. Salad may not be a thrilling meal for some, but I was hungry and before long my hunger escaped the walls of my stomach and drifted off into my subconscious until morning. Before the night ended, however, I saw the reality of hunger.
Only this time it wasn't Sally Struthers' annoying voice telling me that for "just 35 cents a day" I could help save a starving child - it was the face of three hungry little boys. This time, I couldn't change the channel. The problem was in my face, and I had to tune in.
While I leaned back in my chair, full stomach and all, I noticed three little boys standing along the wall. They couldn't have been more than seven or eight. I looked to see if they were some of the same young boys that I had encountered at the pump of the gas station peddling for cash, but I wasn't sure if they were.
However, one thing I was sure of was the hunger I saw in their eyes. They had probably been playing out in the park and had decided they would come in and get some food.
We fed those kids, but again, I wondered where the mothers of these innocent children were. I began to wonder if they had eaten all day. I wondered if they had any food to eat, or if they were being curious and had just happened on a meal.
But it made me sick to think that these kids belonged to mothers who probably sold their Lone Star cards for money, that would in turn buy them drugs, when they had hungry kids to feed.
I don't know what the hunger I saw in their eyes feels like. My mother provided me with good meals every day. I don't know what it feels like to be hungry like that.
Sure, I've been stubborn and have opposed some of the many meals that my mother prepared for me, but I never went without food because of my mother not feeding me. My mother and father worked hard every day to make sure my brothers and I had food to eat. It's sad some parents don't take this responsibility.
I guess the saddest reality of that night was that I had taken that meal for granted. The hunger that I had complained about to my mother was soon fed. I had no doubts that it was going to be, but what about those kids? They too had probably complained to their mothers that day about being hungry, but I wonder how sure they were they would be getting a meal for the day.
Maybe they hadn't eaten at all that day. After all, there was no school that day, so who knows? And just think of what'll happen when free school lunches, the only sure meal of the day for children of parents on welfare, are cut off. It makes you wonder what is really on this country's agenda.
Roberson is a sophomore
journalism/RTV major.