Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: WASTE (10/11/18)
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TITLE: Trashy Treasure | Previous Challenge Entry
By Marlene Bonney
10/16/18 -
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“Al-righty, then—we have our assignments. See you guys for supper at our usual spot!”
This weekend promised to be a successful skirmish, the loot plentiful and sustaining. God willing, much of it would last the entire week. . .
The woman, a.k.a Wedding Wilma, clad in so many layers of cast-off mismatched clothing that she resembled a waddling penguin, approached the church around the back. It was late afternoon. The fancy wedding guests, like so many strutting peacocks, had all gone and the assigned clean-up kitchen crew was busy filling the garbage pails with discarded leftovers. Wilma crouched behind the overflowing dumpsters until the tired workers got in their various cars and left. Her nose tickled as the dinner’s aromas perfumed the air. She pulled an oversized plastic bag from one of her voluminous pockets, and began stuffing. . .
A couple miles to the south, two shadowed figures were dumpster-diving behind Polly’s Kitchen Kettle. Café Charlie and Restaurant Ruthie gathered their finds like busy squirrels under a walnut tree. One of their regular haunts, the eatery threw away day-old desserts and leftover savory pizza and chicken wings. The gutted out old rickety stroller, its unbalanced wheels straining, was soon filled to the brim with cast-offs that, for them, would become a banquet. . .
Meanwhile, in the downtown district, St. Mary’s Church of the Angels monthly Fish-Fry dinners scented the surrounding block of various businesses and office buildings. In the shadows, the nondescript old man, Potluck Pete, bided his time. Like a trembling bunny nose, his face twitched in anticipation of the spiced flour-battered meat awaiting him. It wasn’t long before the guests, and then the kitchen staff, dwindled, chatting their good-bys like so many mimicking magpies. Pete was excited as he loaded up his sorry-looking wagon with Styrofoamed left-over servings of fried fish and all the trimmings. Sure, some of the corn and potatoes spilled into each other’s container sections from the air-born tossing, but he and his companions would not complain; after all, the food all ended up together in the same place eventually, their hungry bellies filled with what they called “heavenly hash.” . .
Gracie, dubbed Grocery Grace, was nearby but the last to arrive at the homeless haven, her grocery cart, as usual, overflowing with discarded supermarket loot. This was a regular “donated” offering of “sell-by’s,” “best by’s,” expired dates items. Their daily trash at the grocery store probably could feed their employees better than the workers could afford themselves. Grace shook her head as she remembered a while back, a deli department supervisor caught trying to take home some of the throwaways. She was fired on the spot.
“Wouldn’t it be somethin’ if she ended up like all of us,” Gracie thought as she wheeled the maimed grocery cart around to the back of the filled dumpster. Her mouth watered as her fingerless mittens retrieved the delicious-looking still sealed food containers from the bin’s cavernous depths. . .
Bonfire Billy, warming himself in front of the makeshift metal refuse can, pulled up seven old crates to seat his friends’ anticipated arrivals. Ole geezer Mac, lame and shaky and no longer agile enough to contribute to their fare, shuffled his oversized and holey boots into their camp for his supper. While they waited, he shared stories older than most people’s time of his experiences in his former life, his colorful adventures also eventually the entertainment to accompany the meal. . .
The former scenario is common in today’s America, where wasting is a talent honed by bureaucracy’s stricture and governmental standards—all along the food chain. Even beginning with farmers where cosmetic and beauty rules force them to throw away blemished produce that is still perfectly edible. If something isn’t aesthetically perfect, grocery stores snub it, even sometimes eliminating imperfect fruits and vegetables from their shelves.
I heard about a local pizza joint that posted the following sign in their front window: “To the person going through our trash for their next meal, you’re a human being and worth more than a meal from our dumpster. Please come in during operating hours for a couple slices of hot pizza and a cup of water at no charge. No questions asked.”
Let us remember: Jesus Himself did not approve of wasting. See John 6:12
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John 6:12: “When they had all had enough to eat, Jesus said to his disciples, “Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted.”
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