by Monica Palmer
For the first few years of parenthood, I feverishly worked into the wee hours the nights before Halloween to craft handmade costumes for my son. I refused to buy him the flimsy things from the store, because I wanted him to have a costume made with love, just like my mom always made for me.
I just assumed that Mom always made our costumes, because she wanted us to have the best. A few years ago, however, my mom shattered this assumption when she laughed and said, “Well, I’m glad you thought that, but the truth of the matter was I couldn’t afford the costumes at the store. I just used old sheets, curtains, nightgowns, or whatever I had on hand and did my best to sew something that matched your idea for that year.”
I was stunned.
I am often taken aback when my mom shares stories about how tough things were for our family when I was growing up. After experiencing the balancing act of budgeting for a family, I have a whole new respect for the fact that my mother somehow managed to raise five kids on a sales clerk’s salary. While that baffles my mind, I am even more amazed by the fact that I never once thought we were poor.
I feel a sense of solidarity with the children I have met at food pantries across the state. While the adults in line often shoulder a heavy shame, these kiddos are delightfully unaware of any stigma associated with needing assistance. They see only the smiling faces of the volunteers and a box full of food that they will get to enjoy with their family.
I still remember the ladies at my childhood church with their brown bags of groceries they would give us from time to time. I saw my mother’s shame when she accepted these gifts, but I didn’t understand it. It was plain to see that these people cared about my family, and I absolutely knew that they cared about me. The vested interest they had in my future became a powerful motivator for me in making my choices in life. Knowing that people believed in me and wanted me to succeed helped me reach for and attain things I would have never grasped on my own.
I had a very rich childhood. I didn’t have everything I wanted, but I had everything I needed.
When you give a gift of time or money to your local food bank or pantry, you are enriching lives. A child doesn’t see your gift as a hand-out or as charity. She sees your gift as the physical proof that she lives in a world where people take care of each other, and she knows that there are people who want her to succeed.
