THE SISTER OF THE POOR

I was brought up by an amazing mother who made us believe that we had a reasonable financial situation at home. As I was a very little child she even convinced us that a dry plant in the kitchen gave candies when we closed our eyes. Thus, during my childhood I always had the feeling of having everything one could desire.

Times have changed a lot since then. Today, children ask for iPods rather than play football. Back in the 2009, while I was having dinner with some friends, two of them stressed that being part of the middle class in Spain required an income of, at least, three to four thousand euros per month. That was the first time I heard a barrier in figures between two classes. Unfortunately, I had the feeling that the average was too high. But what has definitely persuaded me of being less wealthy than what I had initially though has been the prayer of the poor. In recent times, the poor cite specific figures when they pray. Gone are the glory days when they said “feed me”. Nowadays they ask you for five or twenty euros.

Today morning I went to the supermarket. There were two nuns at the entrance, one at each side of it, dressed in his usual gray habit. One of them gave me a piece of paper while the other asked me to collaborate with them.

“Food campaign. We appreciate your generous contribution in steak, beef loin, various kinds of meat, frozen fish, ham, olive oil, coffe in natural grain”.

A quick glance at the flyer was enough to perveive my lack of belonging to the middle class. Beef loin, olive oil... Do you mean selected-grade lean beef? What about some mushrooms and a glass of Riojan wine? All this reminds me of a television programm conducted by “Anton Reixa”, where a skinny African, dressed in the typical Galician costume, claimed the fundamental right of every human being to eat seafood once a year.

I must confess my admiration for my mother, who was able to persuade us of the power of her lentils, beans and stews.

 

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