Familiar faces
These old men were on the front lines. There are no surer signs of the health and well being of a people than the hunger on their faces.
In the world of today we worry so much about state.
Rogue nation states that want to proliferate nuclear weapons with a certain verve in their step that declaims that they won’t play nice with them.
A Crayola box of ominous colors intent on making sure that the state of emergency stays in between the lines
State of the Unions which are more a statement of ovation than a declaration of our movement toward progress.
But what we can’t forget is the state of their stomachs.
Standing there, in the foyer of the Rectory, watching Lincoln tie the door open I saw
familiar faces.
And they were still hungry.
The previous joy I felt to be serving on the lines again was washed away by the immediacy of the situation.
There were some distressing signs.
Francesco told me, after we had finished up, with his list 58 strong, that they had to close the pantry down for the entire month of July.
There wasn’t any food.
City Harvest didn’t deliver for two weeks. They had to depend solely on their parishioners for substance.
Now they were also working with the United Way to help pick up the slack.
But more distressing than this was where was Tony? And the only information that I received was from second hand conversations.
He didn’t pick up.
Maybe he’s at the hospital?
