The Luxury of Onion Dip

Yesterday I went to pick up a few groceries. I did my usual run first to Shoprite then I made my way over to Aldi. The Aldi I go to is on the border of Camden, which is generally a not so great place. Lots of poverty, some sadness, and a bunch of struggle. Usually, though, it's not so bad. It's alright and I feel comfortable. Yesterday, however, was a bit different. We're at the beginning of the month still. The welfare checks just came in a few days ago and people were out. It was a little busier in there than usual. But, minus the small almost altercation I got into over some boxes which I wasn't going to use but someone else was, I walked out unscathed.

Then came dude in the parking lot.

As I was pushing my little rented cart back to my car I heard him. "Ma'am. I'll take the cart back for you." I looked up and there he was, looking at me. I'm still not sure if he looked homeless but he did look cold and weathered.

"Ok," I said as I lifted my bottled water into my trunk.

"I won't come near you," he said as I lifted my face up to look in his direction. And then he sort of shrunk back. "Ma'am, if you're in any position to help..."

"I'm sorry, I have no money. I just used the last of it to buy my groceries."

"Ok, ok."

And out of the white minivan with the plastic wrap window a voice yelled "Stop harrassing people!"

I pushed the cart in his direction and told him to keep the quarter. I just wanted to get out of there. I hate that feeling. I wish I were in a position to really help people. God, how I wish I could help more people. Wish I could offer them more than just a quarter. Working occasionally in the soup kitchen was jarring for me. There were times I'd be wiping the tables down after the rush and think about how if it weren't for my parents, I could have possibly been less than one paycheck away from where many of those folks were. Then I thought about the little boy in Jamaica. Barefoot and hungry. Head looking much larger than it should have, begging. Walking beside us as we came out of a store... we gave him a dollar and he had a treasure. He ran from us, waving... and yelling joy filled "thank yous".

I wish I could do more. And one day, hopefully, I will be able to do more.

Even now, as my money is tighter than it's nearly ever been, I still know I will eat my next meal. In fact, I know what it will be. I can plan, generally, for at least days in advance if I want to about which meal will be next. I'm learning more about the concept of not wasting but I still did toss out the remainder of the French Onion dip last night. There really are folks out there for whom it wouldn't have lasted long enough to throw it out. Partially because it never would have been in their fridge and partially because it wouldn't have sat in their fridge long enough to potentially have gone bad.

I had the luxury of sniffing it and deciding what to do. I had the luxury of washing out the container and tossing the last third of it down the disposal. I have the luxury of keeping the container for some future use. I have somewhere to store it until that future use. And I am left knowing that I'm completely blessed.