Month: October 2012 (Page 3 of 3)

Roots and leaves

October 3, 2012 / Michele Minehart

I used to believe that a community was a place you lived. It included the grocer who sold your food, the librarian who kept you abreast the newest releases, the hardware owners who changed the sign each week as the football team took on another league challenge and the church you attended, even if at irregular intervals. It was the old guy who called your dad when you ran a stop sign, the piano teacher who drove you home after you rode your bike to town chasing after the dog, only to realize you couldn’t bike home with dog in tow. Community was the volunteer firefighter who selected the sub-par warm-up music before your basketball games and the local farmer who earned a ringside seat at those games in exchange for keeping people from walking across the end of the gym.

Community was this group of people that were placed in your path simply because you shared space. Specifically State Routes 292 and 31.

Today pushed me over the edge in redefining community. My FB feed filled with wonderful memories of a young boy and the family that loved him so. I only knew Elliot as a tangent acquaintance. He was the rowdy boy who attended many of the same USHS sporting events as I, both rooting at the cross country meet or even a jr. high girls basketball game. His disposition despite challenges made him known and loved by many of the people that I know and love.

So at first I thought it strange that I would mourn such a social acquaintance. This boy, this friend of friends, 3rd-degree-somewhat-removed, sat heavy on my heart. But upon reflection, I realize that when even a singular piece of a community is removed, the entire community hurts. It shares pain, sheds tears and more than anything wants to soothe the raw wound.

Upper Sandusky stole such a large piece of my heart, even for just the 5 years I bore the address. In so many ways my life and my spirit became intertwined with these people in ways that distance does not sever. And now, with many thanks to FB, I still feel connected from afar. I see the events in the lives of those I prayed for, with and on behalf of. I’ve heard their joy or, at this moment, I sense and share their heartache.

Community is no longer the geography in which we find ourselves; it’s the lives we allow to intersect – dare I say invade – our own. Community is not only the faces we see downtown but those that come to mind as we pray, think, read, work and live. They are the individuals who shape you and form you. They are the people who stand out in fond memories, even the seemingly insignificant ones. And in the realm of small towns, they are the cousins and in-laws and students of teachers and in-laws and friends.

So tonight I hurt with and on behalf of those loved ones afar, and I believe I join many diasporic Upper Sanduskians in doing so. Even though we don’t share space on a map, community has become, to me, those who share roots in the places where you’ve not just grown up but also grown into your life as you know it.

A man, a can, a plan?

October 2, 2012 / Michele Minehart

Today my kids inadvertently learned that some people don’t have enough food to eat. I didn’t aim to make it a “teachable moment” but when I mentioned that I was buying food for the local food pantry, H Boy didn’t quite follow what I was saying. That some people might not have food was a foreign concept to him.

The second lesson of the day centered around internal conflict while walking past boxes of pasta and beans. The plight centered around our contribution to the church’s food pantry and my basic and strong convictions that half of what is sold at the grocery qualifies as “food” in only the sense that it is, in fact, edible.

Photo credit

Food pantries notoriously need non-perishable items because of the nature of their work. We just don’t know how long an item will sit on the shelf before heading home, let alone be opened. So the list of needed items contained canned soup, boxed pastas and pre-packaged meals. Do you know what keeps those meals consumable for months and years on end? Salt.

Take a guess at the leading cause of death among those living in poverty (in the US) for ages 20-59. That’s right. “Diseases of the circulatory system.” (According to Google search, this is heart disease, high blood pressure, stroke, atherosclerosis…). Yes, I’m sure stress plays a role in the health of those living in poverty, among other factors. However, ask anyone under a doctor’s care for these issues and they’ll say the instructions start with cutting out sodium.

As I heard once, our problem with salt doesn’t come from a shaker. It comes from a can.

But it’s exactly what is requested on behalf of those who deal with hunger on a regular basis.

I actually said aloud, “Kids, I wouldn’t let you eat this.” Why would I want someone else’s kids to make a diet of it? Doesn’t loving others as I love myself translate into how we treat the body and the ways in which we nourish it?

Some say, well, at least they’re eating. I agree, hunger is a real battle we’re fighting. But if we only focus on hunger and not nutrition, how will we help others live well? And is eating really the only goal?

Others try to provide healthier versions of the requested foods, but I have trouble thinking my Aunt Annie’s will make a huge difference and instead I join the battle for cost-effectiveness. I could feed 3 families for the price of my one Aunt Annie’s purchase. Quantity over quality, right?

I’ve also heard, if they don’t care, why should I? But I’m not convinced people in poverty don’t care. Perhaps they just aren’t in a position to care to the same extent. Everyone has a choice, but the level to which we’re empowered to make difficult choices varies across economic status.

JJ and I made a conscious decision to allow more freedom in the food budget for quality fruits, veggies and meats. We feel it will pay off in years to come in co-pays, deductibles and medical costs. But finding dollars in the pocketbook for good food isn’t the same option for everyone, including non-profits who feed the hungry.

In an ideal world, we would have means to buy fresh and cook food. We could provide places that those who lack appliances other than microwaves would be able to prepare a meal for their families. I suppose, in an ideal world we invite our neighbors,who we know are struggling, to eat from our own table, in communion with us. Instead we give our conscious the excuse that “if they were hungry, there are places that can help them. I give food to the pantry every month. That’s what it’s there for.”

I ended up purchasing as many seemingly better options – low-sodium soups, canned chicken and tuna, the spaghetti sauce we buy with considerable less sodium, and the requested pastas and mac ‘n cheese. But I need to say a prayer as I deliver these goods that we move in a direction of health for all people, not just the ones who can afford it. I still don’t know what that looks like, but I know $0.87 mac ‘n cheese doesn’t have the answer.

Don’t want to close my eyes

October 1, 2012 / Michele Minehart

I don’t want to fall asleep – I don’t want to miss a thing about these kiddos right now. I need to do a mental brain dump about what these littles are doing that keeps my heart fluttering.

The way H boy makes up words and rhymes them
The way Miss M sees hilarity in everything; every time she “toots bubbles” she breaks out in giggles
The way Baby C sticks out her tongue. It looks like she’s concentrating.
The way H boy puts his arms around your shoulders when you climb into bed to wake him up
The way Miss M does everything H boy does and uses the same phrases
The way Baby C will randomly lay her head down – on my shoulder, on the floor, on her high chair…
The way H boy’s imagination is taking off. He’s fighting “turkeys” with a broom, being the daddy while asking Miss M to be the Mommy, he tells the girls that “there are tigers coming!”
The way Miss M is so proud of herself for getting dressed and going potty by herself
The way Baby C laughs when everyone else is laughing, though it’s clear she’s not sure why
The way H boy always wants Miss M to accompany him places, even if just upstairs to get his ears & shoes (“You want to come with me?” while nodding his head)
The way Miss M doesn’t want to look at you when you’re in the middle of a teachable moment
The way Baby C answers “yes” or “no” even with only about 75% accuracy
The way H Boy coddles his “baby buckeye” and enjoys changing his diaper
The way Miss M will pick up her baby and kiss it on the head after she drops it
The way Baby C sees herself as the baby and is constantly climbing in and out of the toy cradle
The way H Boy bounds out of school and tells me all about his morning there – where he played, the songs they sang, the snack he ate.
The way Miss M asks for “2 ponytails” on some mornings and to wear it down on others
The way Baby C becomes happier when you take of her clothes in the evening after a bath.
The way H boy flings himself on the ground while “dancing”
The way Miss M asks for David Crowder because she wants to dance and sing.
The way Baby C will bob her head along with the dancing siblings
The way H boy enjoys helping – getting the salt, setting the table, getting the muffins out of the freezer and putting them in the toaster oven
The way Miss M loves to brush her teeth
The way Baby C loves to climb on any available stool
The way they all look forward to daddy coming home, running around playing chase, asking him to play a little bit longer

Month: October 2012 (Page 3 of 3)

Roots and leaves

A man, a can, a plan?

Don’t want to close my eyes

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