Fried Chicken

Yesterday, I attended a Christmas lunch day for some of the less-fortunate people in town.  The lunch allowed people to come eat some fried chicken and also, if they brought their kids, pick up a present for them, pre-wrapped and all.  I came for about forty minutes, talking to a few people and helping out a little when I was needed, but most of the time there I was standing and watching those who were receiving the food and gifts.  Just watching these men, women, and children interact was moving.  They came and enjoyed the company of friends and strangers alike, regardless of age or skin color.  The people were laughing and were engaging and you couldn’t help but feel a part of some unified group, standing together and for the good of each other.  Later, as I was reading in William Sloane Coffin’s book, Credo, I came across this quote, “The primary problems of the planet arise not from the poor, for whom education is the answer; they arise from the well-educated, for whom self-interest is the problem.”  The quote allowed me to put a thought into words; that the group of mixed and messy people who were sharing lunchtime together have little self-interest in terms of personal gain.  Sure, some steal and do drugs, but many times this is merely to meet the bare essentials which their family needs to survive, or to cope with some pain unimaginable to us.  It is true that if these men and women were better educated there would be less negative activity, but when you grow up in the environment of a broken family, drugs, and theft, it becomes nearly impossible to get out of that style of living.  Carl Marable, the lunch organizer, stopped a girl going in to eat and said, “How long ‘till you graduate?”  The girl responded, “I don’t know if I will,” and continued to walk inside.  Mr. Marable yelled after her, “You better graduate and alert me so I can give you twenty-five dollars.”  With no response from the girl, Mr. Marable turned, looked at my father and said, “You think she’ll graduate for twenty-five dollars?”  My father jokingly responded, “I wouldn’t,” and laughed.