How To Tackle World Hunger, One Bite at a Time

Photo courtesy of Marc Thele from Pixabay

“It is an eternal obligation toward the human being not to let him suffer from hunger when one has a chance of coming to his assistance.”
–Simone Weil

Happy Tuesday, my beloved readers and writers! How are you today? What is important in your world today? What is lighting you up? Please share with us in the comments!

Last night, I was going through some old photos. I came across one from when I still lived at Ravenswood, my beloved cottage that I lost several years ago. The photo of was of a little kitty whose parents had chucked her out and left her to fend for herself. She was the most affectionate, purring, loving little ball of fur, just aching to be cuddled. She was ever so grateful for every scratch and stroke, every bit of food I gave her.

Every morning, I went down to the porch, where I kept her food and water, and a box with a towel in it so she had a warm little bed when it was cold and wet outside. Thank heaven for cat flaps, and the fact that there was already one in the door before I moved into that cottage several years earlier.

She was always waiting patiently for me and began meowing like mad as I opened the pouch of prawns or chicken or some other little kitty delight in jelly. She devoured her food hungrily, almost as fast as I could squeeze it onto a plate and purring loudly between gulps.

I couldn’t help but remember those times I saw her in my rubbish bins outside, or eating chicken bones she’d pulled out onto the drive. I knew she belonged to someone in the village so at those times, I thought she was just having a little snack.

That is, until she wandered into the garden one day when I was out on the patio and I saw how frighteningly bony she had become since she used to come and visit. I realised she was not being fed at all anymore. I will never be able to comprehend a person being able to do that to another living creature.

After feeding “kitty” every morning, I went to the fridge in search of my own breakfast. It was always filled with fresh vegetables, fruit, a yummy pot of soup or other homemade delights, and more. The cupboards were filled with biscuits and pasta, rice and snacks, tins of beans, jars of pickles and sauces, and all sorts of other goodies.

Someone had originally promised to care for that sweet little cat, who was now as good as homeless. She had essentially been thrown out onto the street and left to fend for herself, to compete with tougher cats for available prey, and with huge rats for rubbish scraps. She had learn how to keep herself safe from wandering dogs, foxes and other predators.

During exceptionally long spells of hot, dry weather, there were no puddles and virtually no water for her to drink.

I had the luxury of being able to eat when I was hungry. She did not. I had the luxury of being safe and warm. She did not. I could drink as much clean, fresh water as I wanted. She could not.

The least I could do was keep her fed and hydrated, and give her shelter when her “owners” wouldn’t let her in.

Every time I eat something, I am grateful for it. I’m grateful for the fact that I live in a part of the world where there is an abundance of food, and that I was not born into a country where there is none.

And every day I am ashamed to live in a part of the world where so much food is wasted, when every moment that I am eating, in fact every moment that I am breathing, there are people wasting away and starving to death. Mothers holding their skeleton children, too weak to move, too weak to cry, until they draw one last breath and slip away to a place where there is no more suffering.

There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.”
— Mahatma Gandhi

I don’t ever forget those people and I sit in tears while watching the adverts that plead for £2 a month to help feed them, or £2 a month for WaterAid to help with clean water and sanitation. I give them as much as I can but of course it’s a drop in the bucket.

And of course, there are plenty of people in our parts of the world who do not have enough to eat. It is a crime that if you live in an affluent country, there is no guarantee that everyone will be fed, or have a home, or access to good medical care.

As I write, Spring has just begun in the northern hemisphere. Already, people are contemplating holidays, warmer weather coming, barbecues, picnics, days at the beach. It’s not mid-November, early December, when that Christmas spirit hits and people start remembering those who have no jobs, no homes, no food. They decide it’s time to do their bit, get involved, give to a charity, work at a soup kitchen for a few hours, feed the homeless.

And for too many of those people, by New Year’s Day it’s all forgotten and it’s back to “business as usual.”

When you’ve got food in your fridge and in your cupboards, even if it’s not a lot and it’s simple fare, it’s so easy not to think about the horrors of hunger, and what it must be like to go without food.

There are people in the world, both near and far, who need your help. There are people who need food, who wake up sick with hunger every morning, and go to bed the same way every night. There are people who have to watch their children go hungry, who feel the shame, the heartache, the trauma of hearing their children’s cries, knowing they’re desperate for food.

Some of them are right here, down your street, across the lane, in your village, at your children’s school.

We can forget their hunger. We can ignore it. But they cannot. They do not have that privilege.

According to the Borgen Project, about 800 million people around the globe do not have access to adequate nutrition. This is a staggering statistic.

Can you give £2 a month to a charity? Or $2? Or a couple of tins of food to the nearest food bank each week when you shop? Can you ask at the schools or churches if there’s a family in need and see if you can help with a meal now and then, or perhaps a bag of groceries?

Can you give a proper meal to that university student or struggling young waitress who is away from family and living on beans on toast?

Can you help to get the world just a little nearer to a place of balance, a place where everyone is properly nourished and no one has to worry about when — or if — they will ever eat again?

Of course you can. But will you?

Spiritual Arts Mentor and Master Teacher, Liberty Forrest, guides you in discovering who you are, why you’re here, and how to follow that path.