Say What You Mean…

I’m starving.

How many times a day do you say this? How many times a day do your children say this.

I’m starving.

I admit it. I used to say this when I hadn’t eaten in a few hours. When the noises in my tummy were audible to a classmate. Or sometimes just for effect.

But, like all words, those words have meaning. And thank God, I have never had to mean them. I have never known true starvation. The only reason I have ever had for going to bed hungry was my own refusal to eat something put in front of me.

I’m starving.

Becoming a mother radically altered my sensitivity to this phrase. The idea that there are mothers who must put their hungry children to bed nightly without knowing if their hunger will be satiated the next day horrifies me. I cannot imagine the pain felt by those women. Or by their children.

In advance of my birthday, I received a lovely email from Facebook, asking me to give people the opportunity to do a mitzvah in honour of my birthday. OK — it was phrased a little differently, but that was the essence of the email.

I figured that a few relatives or close friends might take me up on this crazy idea. What I didn’t expect is that within a few hours of posting my Birthday Wish, people who are not related to me (and are, therefore, NOT obligated to get me anything) chose to mark my birthday with a gift of tzedakah to Mazon: A Jewish Response to Hunger.

I am touched by their thoughtfulness. And hopeful that with such acts of justice, that awful phrase will be eradicated along with hunger.

Keyn y’hi ratzon — may this be God’s Will