Hope | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Hope | Previous Challenge Entry
By Lois Eaton
04/27/24
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Hope

I estimated her age to be about three. So she was probably six or seven. Skin and bones. But unlike the other children, her eyes were alert. She had not given up.

If only she hadn’t seen me. But she had.

I had pulled out a chicken sandwich and taken a bite, not realizing she was watching.

Wracked with guilt, I handed it to her. I expected her to grab it and run, but she didn’t. Instead, she took it gently, smiled at me, took my hand in hers and said something which I think meant, “Come.”

She led me to a tiny hut made of one plastic sheet, 3 sticks and two fairly large squares of cardboard. Dirt for a floor. Two little boys, even smaller than her, sat perfectly still, with that vacant look I had seen on so many faces.

When starvation and loss of hope last long enough, the eyes go vacant, and the body still.

Talking to the boys – as though they could hear her – she carefully broke the sandwich into four pieces. I looked around for the fourth child, but there was no one else there.

She gently placed one of the pieces into the hand of the closest boy to herself, then raised his hand so that he could smell the food. Slowly – ever so slowly – he put the food into his mouth and began to chew. The eyes remained vacant, but some instincts were working. Just.

Then the second boy – just the same.

Then she gave a piece to me.

I did not want it. I was feeling that I would never be able to eat again.

But she was smiling at me. She WANTED me to eat it.

I did.

Then, and only then, she put the last piece into her own mouth and slowly chewed.

I have never seen such givenness, such self-control, such dignity.
Suddenly I remembered. I had TWO sandwiches. So I reached into my bag and gave her the second one.

It was a while before she took it. This time she started at it in disbelief. How could anyone possibly have had TWO sandwiches?

Then she turned and stared at my bag.

It broke my heart to have to say, ”I am sorry but that is all I have.” I knew she would not know the words I was saying, but I hoped she had at least some understanding.

She just stared at my bag.

Did she think it was some kind of magic bag that made food? Did she think if she waited patiently enough there would be more sandwiches to share? I could not tell.

Then she took a deep breath and broke the second sandwich up in four pieces and handed them around again.

Again I had to force myself to eat my piece.

Had I imagined it? Did I really see a glint of life in the boys’ eyes?

She turned to see where I was looking then turned back to me with an even bigger smile. She said something in her language. I could not make it out but felt a deep certainty that she had just given me the most meaningful thank you I had ever heard.

God forgive me if I ever complain again.

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