We had already covered the subject of paying a football
coach whose team loses games a salary in excess of $3million a year, why we
place such emphasis on winning, and why we seem to be phasing science out of
our high school curricula. He was getting exasperated and I was becoming despondent.
“Now,” he said as he selected a purple pen from his pocket
and poised it over his notepad. “tell me about this new decision by members of
your congress to quit funding the bringing down of one's foot heavily on food.”
“Say what?”
“Don’t you read your newspapers?”
“Not always. It scares me and I can’t sleep.”
“Hmmm,” he said and he made a note on the pad.
“A foot? On food?” I said.
“It’s all over the news. Your state’s four congressmen just
voted to cut funding for it.”
“Do you mean ‘the stamping’ of food?”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
“You need to adjust your Galactic Universal Translator
again," I said. "It is undependable.”
“I trust my GUT,” he said.
I rolled over laughing. He falls for it every time.
“What?” he said.
“I think you are talking about food stamps,” I said.
“Precisely,” he said. “Now why do your congressmen find them
so repugnant?”
“I dunno,” I said. “Someone told them to, I suppose.”
“Aren’t they designed to help the poor and, how do you say
it … the ‘least of those’ among you?”
“The congressmen?”
“No. Food stamps. Please be serious.” He was getting testy
now so I focused on the question.”
“That is exactly what food stamps are designed to do. Help
the poor.”
“So,” he said taking notes again. “if I am a mother of three
children whose husband suddenly departs the scene by accident or choice, and I
am, how do you say it … ‘without the basic necessities of life’ …”?
“Destitute.”
“Of course. So I am one for whom food stamps are intended.”
“One of the types, yes.”
“Or, say,” he said. “that I am a father who is stricken with
a sudden illness and can no longer earn money to feed my family. I might rely on
this expression of love and support from my fellow humans?”
“Something like that.”
“Perhaps I am the brother of a man who is killed along with his
wife in a terrible accident and I take in his children and need help feeding
them.”
“Society to the rescue,” I said.
“A damaged veteran of one of your many wars?”
“Ditto.”
“Children of your so-called Mississippi River delta who
cannot escape their poverty?”
 |
| It seems to me that what your species needs is a philosophy that teaches love for the poor. - C.W. |
“Can we talk about something else?”
“One more question please.”
“What?”
“These congressmen of yours … they made this decision while
well-fed and comfortable?”
“Quite so.”
Rarely does C.W. shift shapes in my presence, but this was
one of those times. As I watched, he changed from a bright-eyed student into a
tired old man. When the change was complete, he looked at me and I’ll swear
that I saw a long line of tired and hungry people marching across his face.
“I have much to learn about your species,” he said. “I only
hope my heart can stand it.”
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