This little passage comes smack dab in the middle of Scrooge's wanderings in the world of the Christmas ghosts. Scrooge is at his nephew Fred's house with the Ghost of Christmas Present, watching Fred's guests enjoy themselves at Fred's Christmas party. As the above sentences imply, the gathered men and women behave like children, throwing themselves into the eating and drinking and singing and playing with abandon.
My kids keep me young in heart. They force me out of my adult life of money and work and teaching. They make me see everything new, as if it's just snowed and the world is white and fresh and untouched.
Yesterday, I was at Burger King with my family. My daughter was in between dance classes. As we were sitting in the play area by the window, a homeless man came up to the garbage can outside and started rummaging through its contents. My daughter watched him for a few seconds and then said, "What is he doing, daddy?"
I sat there for a few seconds, not sure what to say to her. Do I tell her that the world can be a really hard place, with hunger and poverty and mental illness and homelessness? Do I tell her that we're lucky to have a roof over our heads and warm clothes and enough money to buy a burger every once in a while? Do I tell her that, even in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, on the shores of Lake Superior, people starve and freeze to death?
Finally, I said, "That man is probably hungry, sweety, and he's looking for pop cans to return for money. Or something to eat." I thought about the Founder of Christmas, saw him in that man at the garbage can, scrounging through old French fries and scraps of hamburger.
Saint Marty hopes he always sees things like his daughter does, with wonder and amazement and compassion. A compassion to feed the hungry of the world, remembering the homeless Founder, born in manure and hay and cow breath and starlight.
 |
| What my daughter saw last night at Burger King |
No comments:
Post a Comment