“Hi,” she greeted me.
“Hi, I’m curious if you could tell me what the balance on Brent Lohan’s account is?” I asked.
She looked up his account and said, “Eight dollars and seventy-five cents.”
Eight dollars and seventy-five cents.
His parents owed less than nine dollars, and he was denied a proper lunch.
I opened my wallet handed her a twenty and said, “Find a way to pay off his balance and deposit the rest of that into his account. Then, I’m going to need a lunch for him for today.”
“But we’ve already stopped serving—”
“I don’t care. This boy has not had any lunch to eat today that can sustain a growing eight-year-old kid,” I noted. “His balance has been paid, and there is now plenty left on his account. I want a lunch for this child to eat now.”
I had a feeling the cafeteria worker realized I was on the verge of losing my mind. She dipped her chin and walked away.
“Thank you, Miss C,” Brent’s tiny voice filtered into my ears.
I looked down at him and had to fight to keep myself from breaking down into tears. “You’re welcome, kiddo.”
“I’m sorry for stealing from you,” he lamented.
“It’s okay. You should have just told me, though.”
He shrugged. “It’s embarrassing.”
A moment later, there was a tray filled with popcorn chicken, macaroni and cheese, carrots, a banana, and a milk in front of us. I took it from the cafeteria worker, gave it to Brent, and instructed, “Go have a seat and eat. I’ll be right over.”
I could practically see the kid salivating at the sight of all the food in front of him. My heart broke just a little more.
Once he was out of earshot, I looked at the cafeteria worker and advised, “Do not deny this child a meal ever again. If his account goes negative again, do not tell him. Give him whatever that day’s meal is, and I will cover it.”
“It’s not your responsibility to take care of them,” she remarked.
“Maybe it’s not my responsibility, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it,” I shot back.
“Some of these parents purposely don’t pay the balance because they know their kids will at least get something,” she shared.
I shrugged. “So what? Even if that’s true in some cases, it doesn’t change the fact that there are kids who are going hungry. That’s not fair.”
“You can’t save them all,” she noted.
That sounded like a challenge. Riggs would never back down from a challenge. Suddenly, I knew what I had to do.
“You bet your ass I can,” I promised before I walked away.
By the time I made it over to Brent, he had already eaten all of his chicken and was halfway through his macaroni and cheese.
It hurt my heart so much to see a little kid like that eating food like he’d never get another meal. That sight only reinforced my decision. I was going to save all these kids from this fate.
“Good?” I asked him, forcing myself to smile.
Brent barely lifted his head from his tray as he replied, “Mm hm.”
“Okay. Keep eating but listen closely. I want you to know that you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. When I was a kid, I was in a similar situation. My parents had a tough time when my dad lost his job, and there were days when I was hungry. So, if you ever feel that way, you can tell me. Okay?”
Somewhere in the middle of my speech, Brent had stopped eating to look up at me. When I stopped speaking, he asked, “You know what it’s like?”
I nodded.
“My dad got hurt at work and now he’s disabled,” Brent explained. “Mom works but she doesn’t make enough money.”
“I understand. I’m sure your mom is doing the best she can,” I assured him. “And while she works to do what she can, I want you to know that you don’t need to worry about food while you’re in school, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. I’m going to head back to the classroom while you finish up. The rest of the kids aren’t back yet. Do not worry about them finding out. Nobody will know what happened. I’m going to put a few extra snacks in your backpack before everyone gets back from recess, alright?”
Brent was back to eating and nodded.
With that, I stood and walked away.
And on my way to my classroom, I had to fight the urge to break down into tears. Kids are in school to learn. They can’t do it if the only thing they can think about is when they’re going to have their next meal.
Riggs
I knew if I didn’t follow through with my usual routine, it would have been a dead giveaway that something was on my mind. The minute I arrived, ready to work Monday morning, I took care of my early morning task of tending to our livestock, making sure they all had food and water before letting them out to roam. The Donovan Family Farm had just over a hundred and sixty acres of land, so there was never a shortage of space.
One of the things I loved was that we had not only enough land to grow our crops and allow our animals to roam but also enough room to allow us all to be in our own space.
Once I’d taken care of the animals, I made my way to the bakery. And I did it hoping I looked like I’d always looked. My fear was that any one of my siblings would take one look at me and know that I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Opening the door to the farm’s on-site bakery, I did it with the same chant repeating over and over in my head: Act normal and move on.
Given the early hour, I wasn’t surprised to see that the front area was empty. Eden and Piper would be in the back preparing the baked-fresh-daily donuts and other pastries.
When I walked through to the back, hoping to snag a quick cup of coffee and two donuts as I did every morning, I found I was right. My sisters were hard at work.
Of course, that work was halted the minute they felt my presence.
“I called you last night!” Eden greeted me.
“Good morning to you, too,” I shot back.
Eden ignored my comment and asked, “How was it?”
“How was what?”
“I told you,” Piper chimed in. “I told you he’d pretend he had no idea what you were talking about so he wouldn’t have to tell us about it.”
Eden ignored Piper’s comment as well and pressed, “Riggs, how was the photo shoot?”
She was already so worked up. There was no way I could come right out and add fuel to the fire. Eden would have me married in a week if she knew how I really felt about the photo shoot.
So, I decided the best thing to do was downplay it. I shrugged my shoulders and replied, “It was fine.”
“Fine?” Piper questioned me, clearly not amused.
“Yeah, it was fine. It wasn’t a big deal,” I insisted.
“What was her name?” Eden asked.
“What does she do?” Piper wondered.
“Was she pretty?” Eden questioned me.
I sighed.
The sooner I answered their questions, the sooner I’d be able to get my breakfast and get back to work.
“Her name is Adele, and she’s an elementary school teacher,” I answered.
“And…” Eden trailed off.