It’s the weekend before Thanksgiving and my family, like many others, is preparing our home for a special feast this week. A few days ago, we made a shopping list of all of the ingredients we needed for the dishes we will make together and my four year old and I took a trip to the grocery store.
Standing in front of the case of turkeys, my son looked at me and said, “Mommy, I want the big one.” Laughing, I said quietly to myself, “Of course you do.” Don’t all kids want the big cookie? The larger slice of cake? And the taller milkshake? Seasonally, they are going to want the biggest turkey.
Humoring him but knowing we didn’t need over twenty pounds of turkey, we went a few pounds bigger than we needed but left the larger ones for families that desired it for their celebration this year. As my son pushed our cart full of our weekly purchases and the additional items for our meal next week, I pushed a separate cart. Pushing one and pulling another, reminded of my childhood. As one of seven children, my mom was always pushing one cart and pulling the other through wholesale clubs — two carts filled to the brim were necessary to feed us all.
As I walked with my son in the supermarket, pushing one cart and gently guiding the other, that he couldn’t quite see over to steer himself, it felt necessary once again to have two carts.
The second cart I pushed was filled with the canned goods and other nonperishables we were collecting for a food drive at my son’s school. Walking through the store, my son helped to place items in the cart that would go to a local food cupboard. Standing in the aisle, he could see in front of him what was going to our home and what was going to be donated to other families, perhaps other four year olds just like him. He could visualize in a concrete way the food that would be delivered to somebody else who needed it. He could visualize in a concrete way the kindness his family was extending this time of year.
That second cart — a concrete image of giving generously.
Last year at this time we were in the middle of a pandemic without vaccines and we had a newborn at home, so our annual grocery store run for Thanksgiving fixings and the food drive became a pick up order instead. However, this year I wanted my kids to have more of a hand in our family’s generosity. My four year old would select the items and my six year old would pull them out of our trunk to drop them off. Being a part of it and seeing for themselves food that would go to another table, would hopefully set a lifelong foundation for gratitude and giving. Despite their young ages, I wanted them to participate in this season’s true purpose — gratitude for what we have and giving what we can, this Thanksgiving.
Honestly, it was helpful for me to visualize those carts too. Staring at one cart, I was grateful for what we have and staring at the other, I wondered could we give more?
In the midst of a busy day of preschool pick up and drop off, meals for three kids, weekly errands, phone calls, and basketball practice, it was the moment during the day that I stood staring at one cart that filled me with gratitude and one that reminded me of our generosity — both having a positive effect on me. This week I also added stamps to letters mailed to charities in our county and nationally that would also provide food to those in need.
According to the USDA ERS, 14.8% of households with children were food insecure in 2020 with food insecurity defined as “a household-level economic and social condition of limited or uncertain access to adequate food.” Some households only the adults faced food insecurity, ensuring the children were fed. But imagine how hard parenting is already — try doing it starving.
As a pediatrician, I am also very aware of the health effects of food insecurity, both physical and emotional. According to an AAP News article, entitled “Call to action: Expand programs to feed our children,” these health effects include “asthma, developmental delays, behavioral problems, obesity and poor growth.” The article further describes children who face food insecurity are at increased risk for “developing hyperactivity, aggression, anxiety, depression, learning disabilities and frequent hospitalizations,” compared to children who have the food they need available to them.
Depending on where we live, we might not think about food insecurity being part of our community, being part of our lives, being part of the village we live in. However, a few days ago as I was navigating the American Academy of Pediatrics National Conference virtually, I listened to a lecture given by Dr. Kofi Essel, an Assistant Professor of Pediatrics at Children’s National Hospital. The purpose of his talk was to highlight that food insecurity lives in rural, urban, and suburban populations — the title of his talk, “Food Insecurity Lives In Every Zip Code.” He presented a statistic that really stuck with me — anywhere between 2-44% of families living in counties in the United States are facing food insecurity. He added that just because your county might be 2% doesn’t mean that number doesn’t matter.
When I think about 2% — that number is too high. That means families everywhere raising their children are facing food insecurity, that means kids are hungry. His talk was very powerful.
A few months ago, my son worried we wouldn’t have enough food.
It was after him and his brother had put away their laundry and brought their piggy banks in for their allowance. Putting their own laundry away is the only chore my kids receive an allowance for because I view putting away dishes, clearing the table, and picking up the playroom as part of a communal effort to keep our house clean. But I generally assume that if they can match colors and shapes — they can figure out which drawer to match their underwear and shorts and it was my answer to the parenting question, pay them for chores or don’t? As I divvied out the coins, we talked about their value, the faces on one side and the states on the back of each quarter. At the end, they reached in and pulled out one extra coin each.
A few nights later as my oldest son was going to bed, he said the same thing he says almost every night, “Mom, can we talk?” A phrase that as exhausted as I am at the end of the day, I never want him to stop saying. That particular night though, a concerned look appeared on his face and he asked his question with a more somber tone.
Quietly, he said to me, “Mommy…”
The question that followed was never a question I ever expected any of my kids to ask.
He asked, “Mommy, do we have enough money?”
A few days before, he had peered into that same jar ready to take out his extra coin and noticed it was starting to run low — there weren’t many coins left. He thought that represented the money we had and was worried we wouldn’t have enough for things we needed. I shuddered to calculate back how many days he had been holding onto that thought.
When I asked him what things he was most worried about being able to buy, he responded, “Apples.”
I asked if he was worried we didn’t have enough money for food. He gently nodded.
Staring at him in that moment, I felt awful. I felt awful that he worried about that. I felt even worse thinking that there were children who worry about that many nights, if not every night. I knew I could reassure my son. But I also knew it was something not all parents could do.
My heart heavy, I went to bed a few hours later.
The next day, I received a letter in the mail. A letter that I needed to help move me forward, that helped remind me of what I can do. It was a handwritten thank you card from a food bank that I had previously donated to. It reminded me despite a heavy heart of what I can do. I can bring a cart full of items to a food drive, I can offer our donations to local and national food banks, and I can spread awareness of what others can do too.
There are so many families, families with children, who need our support. Families who need access to food so that they can grow, develop, and thrive living a healthy lifestyle.
There are many reasons why families in our country and globally are hungry and we need solutions. But we can’t let kids starve while we are coming up with solutions. We can’t let our neighbors be hungry. That 2%, that 44%, and everything in between — matter.
No child should ever have to go to bed hungry and no child should ever have a parent who is responsible for their well-being — doing it hungry.
This Thanksgiving, I have included resources for how to help and for how to increase your awareness of food insecurity that very likely lives in a home you drive by everyday.
https://www.healthychildren.org/English/family-life/Community/Pages/Feed-Families-Not-Landfills.aspx
https://publications.aap.org/aapnews/news/7817
https://www.feedingamerica.org
https://www.feedingamerica.org/hunger-blog/gifts-give-back
While I hope you enjoy reading my posts, kindly be advised that the words in this article are not medical advice and I cannot guarantee that they will work for you or your family. They are my reflections on parenting my three boys, based on my own personal background and experiences. Always reach out to your own health professionals for any questions or concerns. Please read my full disclosure at the bottom of this site for more information. Very sincerely, Mamma P.
