Poverty and Wishes: They aren’t poor, I saw a bag of chips
We delivered a food basket to the families from the local community house. My children, like most, didn’t understand poverty after all, they can’t have soda whenever they want it, (milk builds strong bones) and hamburgers from McDonalds are hard to come by. (I think it’s my aversion to hydrogenated oils.) To them –they knew about poverty first-hand.
The family we visited was kind, and their two children were delightful. Our children and theirs saw no differentiation between economic levels. As we left the apartment, my four year old said, “They’re not poor. I saw a bag of chips. To me, his comment was really a wish: They are just like us. Tell me the bag of chips means they are OK.
I wanted to tell him that everyone does have enough to eat. But instead, I offered awareness. I was grateful the food-basket organizers provided me with a handout, “The Hidden Rules and Values of Poverty” based on the book, A Framework for Understanding Poverty. I learned that this poverty, generational, as opposed to situational poverty is perpetuated by a set of values, based on immediate gratification. The author explained that she arranged for a homeless man to have a room and a small refrigerator. A week later he sold the refrigerator so that he could buy a bus ticket to visit his Mother. He didn’t understand the value of focusing on the future by being able to store food.
The following questions from the handout helped my children see poverty in a new way.
Do you know which grocery stores’ garbage bins can be easily accessed for thrown away food?
Do you know how to use a knife as scissors?
This last question was interesting — people in poverty rarely have access to tools don’t think ahead and say, I have some extra cash, I think I’ll buy scissors; or a screwdriver.



















It was Christmas Eve. I was so busy working on this website that I didn’t buy stuff for the kid’s stockings. The stores were closed. Panic was settling in. Just then, a neighbor called, (I think (hope) she was tipsy) wanting to know why everyone else had luminaries out and she didn’t. “Was there another conspiracy? Was there something sinister going on?” I assured her not, but she still needed something for her neices to see when they drove in from Grandma’s. So, while on the phone with me, she went out and stole a few of her neighbor’s luminaries right off the sidewalk. (I do not make this stuff up.) Did I stop her? No, she was beyond stopping. But, I did ask, “since I have you on the phone, do you have anything to contribute to my son’s stockings?” She did. 



