Wednesday night in Ocean City we went out for supper. It was a family restaurant that served a seafood buffet along with a traditional menu. Our family settled in, and after finding out that our two youngest could eat for free and Ash was the junior buffet, we ordered and promptly began filling plates. (I’m not a big buffet kind of person anyway, but the options on the traditional menu weren’t all that appetizing… then again neither is greasy food that’s been sitting under sneeze-guards.) And our plates were $30 a head. The small town girl in me cringed, but I headed over to the salad bar, because I always do salad first at a buffet. I’m not a girl of routine or anything. Not at all.
Heading back to the buffet for my main course, I looked around and it was like being hit in the face. The excess. The vast amounts of food. The plates piled with enormous portions of pastas and meats and seafood and fries and sweets. I got nauseated, and it wasn’t from my medications. I scooped on a few bites of pasta and headed back to our table in tears.
Because I thought of Mario, our little Guatamalan Compassion child. I spent $30 for one meal for myself. One meal! And that $30 would support a Compassion child for a month. I thought about how many thousands of people ate at that restaurant on that night and how many thousands of $30 could impact hurting people… not just Compassion children, (although Compassion is my soap box).
I’ve thought a lot about this lately… how do I, as Shaun Groves says “simplify my life so that others may simply live”? I’d love to hear your thoughts.