Last month, I went to the Community Food Bank of Southern Arizona on South Country Club Road to drop off several bags of food.
When I arrived, I realized that I had entered the wrong parking lot; it was for those seeking food. But before turning around, I sat for a few minutes to get my bearings. It was then I noticed a young father walking hand in hand with his two little boys and an old woman, bent over, being assisted by a younger woman. Others were arriving too; the parking lot was full. All of them shared one thing in common: they needed help from the community, or they would be hungry.
In the area served by the Community Food Bank of Southern Arizona, one in seven people face hunger; one in five children face hunger.
After a few minutes, I drove to the back of the building, where drop-offs are accepted.
When I arrived, I found a large school bus filled with teenagers blocking the door. It appeared that their senior project was to collect food for the food bank. In the end, I had to wait 20 minutes while the young people went back and forth, in and out of the bus, carrying out boxes of food.
With them was an enthusiastic teacher with a camera. When the students finished unloading the boxes, she took several group photographs of smiling teens, for what I assume was the school paper or yearbook.
While sitting there, I realized that the real lesson for me and for the busload of teenagers was not at the drop-off door, but on the other side of the building, where those in need were coming to collect food for themselves and their families.
On that morning, my choice of drop-off location included several places closer to home. I didn’t have to drive 25 minutes to the food bank on Country Club Road where recipients are served. I chose to drive to the food bank because it made my donation more personal, more real. In the end, I was glad I did.
It is difficult to look at poverty directly. It is much easier to put a bag of food in a box at the grocery store. We try to deal with the issues of hunger and homelessness by using euphemisms like food insecurity or the unhoused, words and phrases that allow us to keep our emotional distance from uncomfortable topics. Hunger and homelessness are harder to face.
What was clear from my car window, as if I ever doubted it, was that anyone can be hungry. The people I saw in the parking lot were of different colors, different ethnicities, different ages … and, I‘m sure, different religions.
Judaism teaches us the importance of taking care of the poor and treating them with respect and dignity. For us, it is a moral and a religious duty, a way to promote a just society. Deuteronomy tells us, “Open your hand.” Isaiah says, “The work of tzedakah shall bring peace.” Maimonides lists eight levels of charity.
And the Book of Ruth teaches us that even in an abundant harvest season, there are still those in need who do not share in that abundance.
When we see governmental programs that benefit hungry school children slashed or subsidies for housing poor families eliminated…how do we as Jews respond? Is there anything we can do in addition to supporting our local institutions?
A recent headline read “Food Banks Fight for Scraps.”
What is happening in our society where such a headline is front-page news?
Judith Manelis is a writer, editor, and journalist whose work has appeared in American Jewish newspapers and magazines. Her book “This Shall Tell All Ages: Art, Music and Writings of the Holocaust” was published by United Jewish Appeal
