It’s been a tough few days for the UK, whichever side of the fence you’re on. Division everywhere. Not least division between the rich and the poor.
Growing up, I can’t remember seeing or hearing about foodbanks. Even a decade ago I am not sure I knew of one. Today there are many and ‘foodbank’ is a word that is frequently heard. When I was little, we weren’t rich: a typical working-class family. But we were far from poor. We always had food on the table. The thought that people are struggling day to day to provide for their families is saddening. The thought of people going to bed hungry and cold or panicking about where their next meal is coming from is truly harrowing.
Today, I spotted a drop-off point in a Morrison’s store and swiftly decided to go and fill a basket. I hope that the simple gift of food will make someone smile, make someone reassured, make them not panic for a day or two and fill up the bellies of their children.
Food is a gift and shouldn’t be taken for granted yet it so often is, by me too. Spotting the drop off bin gave me food for thought indeed. Bon appetit!