The Skinny Cows and the Fat Cows

 

The Skinny Cows and the Fat Cows

Carol A. Brown 

When I was about 10 years old, I would spend several weeks each summer on my grandmother’s farm. I remember telling her, “When I grow up, I want to be a farmer, or maybe a farmer’s wife. Grandmother surprised me with a reply, “Well it’s very hard work. I’m not sure you would really like it.” Then she picked up her milk pail and trudged back to the house. Grandmother milked their cow twice each day, 7 days each week, 365 days a year. This was her routine until her sons were able to pitch in with chores. She also worked her garden in season, kept house and cared for her children. Both she and Granddad worked hard at the textile mill in town along with running a farm. Even during the dark days of the Depression era, my grandparents kept their family well fed, safe, and protected on the farm. The family always had a cow, or as they called her, the milk cow. The cows were Jersey breed with rusty red coat, a white fuzzy face, with sticky wet noses. I thought all cows were red with white faces.  Later I realized there were also black cows and spotted cows with black patches, all capable of producing milk. Another consistency I noticed was how big our cows were. Their sides were well filled-out with muscle and flesh. The tits and milk bag hung low and full. Big round eyes were clear and seemed to know we would always be nearby to help relieve their bulging bags of milk. 

                                                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When I went to Nicaragua in 2018 I saw cows of a different sort—altogether different. There were a few red Jersey cows, but most were black and spotted. What made these cows different from my Grandmother’s was more than the color of their coat. Bones were jagged and poked out painfully under their skins. Their coats were dull and colorless and there was no sign of milk bags. You see, they lived on the garbage dump of a large city in Central America. These pitiful cows were nearly starving but they were not alone. There were also hungry people who came daily to pick through the remains of what others had discarded. Any major city will have a city landfill, with mounds and mounds of empty cans, plastic containers, small appliances, and piles upon piles of clothing, rags, and broken furniture.  The capital city Managua, Nicaragua is no different. The dump site that people would sift through might bring in a small amount of cash to help feed and clothe themselves and their children.

 

Those sad skinny cows were hard to look at, especially when I remembered those fat sleek milk cows on Grandmother’s farm. My grandparents were able to keep their animals well fed and healthy during the darkest days of the 1930’s. The animals returned this good care by providing the family with an ongoing milk supply. I was not yet born but only heard the stories told by my family. Many people in the United States did suffer from starvation and many more lived in tents, just as they do today in cities like Atlanta, Dallas, Las Angeles, and Greenville, North Carolina.

 

Our society has become desensitized to images of hunger and poverty. We see screen flashes on a monitor but forget as instantly as the flick of our thumb. I don’t have a solution for those poor hungry cows, but I will always remember them. Somehow, the cows stayed in my mind with greater clarity than the

"Churequeros" working in the dump.  Our mind works in strange ways. Maybe the starving people are more than I can stand to face. Maybe it is easier to sympathize with cows than people. All I know is, when we continue to forget the images of starvation, there isn’t much hope for the hungry of the world. Hunger hurts. There are countless people around the world who constantly feel the pains of an empty belly as a result of war and poverty.

 

But there is hope. Jesus began His public ministry with a promise. He promised good news for poor and hurting people everywhere (Luke 4:18). As part of His ministry He was glad to miraculously feed the hungry people on a mountainside (Matthew 14:13-21).  But,  more importantly,  He promised a blessing to those with hunger of a different sort.  “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled” (Matthew 5:6). Those who are hungry for a good and righteous word also suffer. They are hurt by injustices, broken relationships, loss of family, devastation from wars, as well as other events that are the result of people who would do harm to their fellow humans.

 

We may never be able to feed every hungry person on this earth. Even Jesus predicted, the poor you will always have with you. . .(Matthew 26:11a). This was recorded in the story of the woman who poured out expensive perfume on the feet of Jesus.  He was reminding His disciples that, more important than money, was seeking after Him as their Lord. As we seek Him through the sacred teachings in the Bible; as we listen for guidance by the Holy Spirit; and as we obey God’s command to help the hungry and afflicted (Isaiah 58:10), we fulfill our rightful duty to the hungry of the world. When your church asks for food donations, don’t hesitate to give what you can. When there is a denominational call to send resources to those whose homes are shreds of wood following a storm, send what you can. When your pastor announces a special project to send food to war torn countries, don’t hesitate, follow the leading of your local church. And, if you find yourself hungry and thirsty for righteousness, say your prayers and be thankful, for God said, ”. . .every animal of the forest is mine and the cattle on a thousand hills…” (Psalm 50:10). God doesn’t need our offerings, but He will use what we give to help others.

 

 

Hungry cows in Nicaragua photo by Nancy Huggins.