So Tired of Being Hungry

By Scott Swasey

We had no food, and the breadsticks were right there for the taking.

The author lives in Utah, USA.

people at a mall

Illustration by Yev Haidamaka

My family was very poor while I was growing up, and we moved so often that I never felt like I belonged anywhere. Even though we faced a lot of hard times, we were rarely sad, but we were often hungry. I remember one day that was particularly rough at home. There was no food and my parents were arguing, so I left the house.

I went downtown to the local mall to try to entertain myself. I immediately went to one of my favorite stores, a candy shop with barrels of taffy and other goodies. My eyes caught on a tree made from breadsticks which were twisted, braided, glazed, and cooked to that perfectly baked, tan color.

My stomach growled as I realized that even though I was hungry and the delicious bread was right in front of me, I would never have it. I wanted to steal the bread; hunger and desperation were the obvious reasons, but I also felt fed up with not having a fair chance in life. I felt like no one cared about me, so I wanted to steal from society to let it know that it had failed me.

I tried to decide how I could steal the bread. I was 20 steps away … 15 steps away … 5 steps away. The decision was coming up. I was either going to take it or not.

But then I had a sudden, fleeting thought to ask God for help with my problems. I was frustrated, because I knew that God had seen me hungry, lonely, and tired before. Why was this situation any different?

“Things won’t change,” I thought. “God won’t answer me. Why would He help me now when He never has before?”

All I wanted was to satisfy my hunger with that bread. After all, it was only bread; what would it really cost the store? Why is it a big deal?

Then it hit me. I would be the one paying the cost of my anger and regret. As I passed the bread, I brushed it with my shoulder. I decided I would try one last time to do things God’s way.

I walked over to the warm food court, one of my favorite areas of the mall, and sat down at a long table. I had done the right thing, but I was still hungry. And I was in the same spot as before. I sat alone at the table and felt the heavy silence for at least an hour.

As I was sitting, lost in thought, I heard footsteps coming from behind me. Someone came up behind me and put a big plate with a double burger and fries in front of me. He patted me on the shoulder and walked away without saying a word.

I turned around and realized that it had been one of the restaurant workers. He silently returned to his job and never looked back at me. He didn’t want to be acknowledged, but I recognized him as a boy named Tim from school.

I was stunned as I looked down at my double burger. This was not just bread. It was a full meal.

Earlier, it seemed so much easier to just believe that there is no God and to take the bread. But now there was no denying that God knew me and my trials. Before I ate, I made sure to spend time thanking God for the food and for Tim.

I learned a lot about brotherly love that day, and I wanted to help others in the same way Tim helped me. I know that God was aware of me. He inspired Tim to share food with me to fill my physical hunger. And He answered my prayers and helped me feel His love so I could be spiritually filled as well.