The most shameful experience of my life

[Cyrano]

I went to the New York City public school system and there were only three black kids in my class at the time. One year, a teacher asked us to submit the names of children whose families couldn't afford to buy a Thanksgiving dinner. (Unlike today's America, NY schools helped pay for a family's Thanksgiving dinner.)

I submitted the name of a black classmate named Barney. (I won't say his real name here because he may still remember this incident and be embarrassed by it.)

Barney wore torn sweaters to school. It was only when I grew up that I understood that he wore torn clothes because his parents couldn't afford to buy him new ones.

Barney often smelled. He once explained to me that he could only bath twice a week because his parents couldn't afford to pay the electric/water bills that the landlord added to their rent if they used too much water or electricity.

Other kids in my class told me that Barney's family had money, and could afford to buy themselves a Thanksgiving dinner. Being young, ignorant and gullible, I believed them. After all, at nine years old, who are you going to believe? Your friends, or a kid with torn sweaters who couldn't afford to bath every day? So (to my everlasting shame) I withdrew my request.

Barney was born into poverty that most of us can't imagine. And he was treated as an outcast because of it.

This was a likable kid. He was an amiable, pleasant, intelligent child trying to do his best given the circumstances of his birth/life.

And there is never a day in my life that goes past that I don't regret that I hadn't fought for him and that Thanksgiving dinner that I was too young and stupid to understand was needed. Not to mention helping him fight for a decent life during the other 364 days of the year.

I'm usually not one to lecture. But if only we could all empathize with the horror of poverty. And do just a little now and then to help relieve it.