Breakfast Feast

I’m hungry, she is tired of hearing those words, she is a mile from the white house, roaming the streets of the most powerful city in the world, she is not alone. Downtown, they pour over dishes their lobbyists pay for, while the shelters turn people away. They have eyes but can’t see, is there a message in that, they wont attend a meeting either unless they get paid expenses. I’m hungry he says again, she feels the change in her pocket, soon she says.

Solomon sighed, a deep heart felt sigh, the love connects the light shines, the words of Jesus are made real; allow God to reside inside you and transform your life, it’s that simple.

She gets a seat in a side cafe, it’s Irish owned, the manager is an Irish Emigrant woman, she serves the biggest breakfasts in town. From the counter she watches the eyes of the small one, how he watches the tray laden with food for another table pass close by. His eyes widen, a little hopeful smile appears, i’ll be having that soon. Her heart breaks each time she see’s that expression on a small face, hoping. As for the loud mouth campaigners, they make the noise and then hide behind their private gates; do they say such words of thoughtfulness just to antagonize us all. Mary is practical; hunger can’t wait. if only one of them.. if only one had the courage of their words, some day, some day she hopes.

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