The State of Food

carts

“Thank You for this food,” says my father-in-law when he prays over our family dinner table. “And bless the hands that prepared it.”

Today as I sit down to a simple lunch of tomato soup and tuna melt, I think of the hands that prepared it.

Of course there are the farmers and ranchers. Vegetable growers and harvesters of the tomatoes for the soup and the cucumbers for the relish.

Dairy farmers whose cows produce the milk I stir into my soup and the cheese that makes my tuna melt. Poultry farmers whose chickens lay eggs for the mayo.

produce

Wheat growers who give us grain for bread. Fishermen who harvest albacore on the open seas.

It would be enough to stop there in the bread baskets, victory gardens and teeming waters of our world. But that would only be part of the story.

Equipment, machinery, tires, and fuel run modern farms. Veterinarians and animal health products shield livestock from disease.

Inputs like fertilizer boost plant health and production in our cropland. And yes, there are chemicals to keep our food from being infested by insects, ravaged by disease, or starved out by weeds.

cheese shop

There are ecologists and extension agents to watch over natural resources. Agronomists, biologists, chemists, soil specialists and a host of other scientists to improve and develop technologies.

Bankers, accountants, and lawyers are involved. Marketers too. Farming and food production are expensive ventures.

There are processing companies like the one that canned my soup. Planes, trains and big rigs with 18 wheels to transport the food to my town.

There are farmers’ markets and grocery stores. On-premise butchers, bakers, and chefs. People to work the checkouts, collect carts, or clean up on aisle seven.

checkout

Managers to manage it all. Administrators, human resources professionals, and thousands of other employees, plus federal, state and local government agencies.

So many people, so many hands take part in preparing my food and yours. We are free to buy, cook, or order up nearly anything we can imagine to eat.

Food prices have risen a bit lately. Yet last week I spent more money on clothes for my growing child than on groceries to feed him.

This is the state of food in America. The abundant, affordable state of food.

The pilgrims would fall to their knees if they could see it now. We’d do well to take their lead.

The eyes of all look to You in hope;
You give them their food as they need it.
When You open Your hand,
You satisfy the hunger and thirst of every living thing. Psalm 145:15-16 NLT

Thanksgiving Song by Mary Chapin Carpenter.

A special thank you to the friendly folks at the Richmond Center and Ladue Schnucks grocery stores for lending their smiles to this post.

#foodthanks

This post is part of FoodThanks, a forum sponsored by AgChat where people can give thanks for those who produce our food. To read more perspectives or to link up your own, go to AgChat.com or click on the #foodthanks button here.

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If You See Something

front porch flag

What did you see?

I saw a quiet September morning. A clear blue sky. A day like any other.

I heard the sounds of my husband showering upstairs. The cereal plinking in my bowl.

The guy on the radio, “This just in from the AP newswire. It appears a plane has crashed into the World Trade Center in New York.”

“Jeff,” I called. “They’re saying on the radio a plane crashed into the World Trade Center.”

“Turn on the TV!”

We sat together on the couch, the two of us cloistered in our little Midwestern living room. We stared at the screen. Saw smoke pouring out of the North Tower.

Then the explosion. We saw the South Tower hit in real-time live from New York.

Spent the rest of the day trying to find normal. All the while, horrifying news rolled in from the East Coast like some wayward hurricane making landfall.

I saw the early video of the people falling from the Towers. I saw it before the media decided the images were too disturbing for viewers like me.

Then I heard the Pentagon was attacked.

“Do you think you should come home?” I said to my husband over the phone. “There may be more hijackers on a flight to St. Louis.”

“No,” he said. “We’re okay here. They’re not going to hit a low-rise office building in Clayton.”

“But there might be other cells with bombs,” I said. “Your office has an underground parking garage.”

He stayed put. I drove home. I heard Dan Rather on the car radio, his voice shrouded by the background noise of the South Tower falling. Crumbling, crashing, shattering, concrete, glass, dust and death.

Back at my post in the living room, I saw footage of smoke against grass. A plane crash in a farmer’s field in Pennsylvania.

Saw images of New Yorkers running for their lives. Saw the amateur video from Dr. Mark Heath who stayed at Ground Zero filming through the implosion of the South Tower. “I hope I live. I hope I live,” he said.

groundzerospirit.org, ©2001 The Record, Bergen County NJ

Could almost smell the ash and dust as it swirled and covered him. Heard the eerie whistling of the firefighters’ equipment in the black of that day.

Hung our flag and placed a candle in our yard. Tasted the tears.

Later that evening I went to my graduate school class. I listened in disbelief as my professor refused to call the attacks evil.

Came home to watch the media whitewash the footage. Pulling photos. Editing out the most startling video. Concluding only a few days into the crisis the public had seen enough. Running film from the attacks would only incite violence.

And now ten short years later, I am saddened when I search for facts to find the web replete with 9/11 conspiracy theories. When I look for comfort to read there is no prayer allowed at the commemoration service in New York.

But it’s too late. I saw what happened.

I am a witness to the attacks of September 11, 2001, along with millions of my countrymen and millions more people around the world. I want to forget, but I can’t. I want to go on as if it never happened, but that would be a lie.

if you see something
if you see something say something

So what does it mean being a witness?

Each of us must decide how to respond. And yet there is one responsibility we have in common, I think.

If you see something, say something. And keep saying it and saying it and saying it.

Earth, do not cover my blood;
may my cry never be laid to rest!
Even now my Witness is in heaven;
my Advocate is on high.
My Intercessor is my friend
as my eyes pour out tears to God;
on behalf of a man He pleads with God
as one pleads for a friend. Job 16:18-21 NIV

Remember the morning of September 11, 2001, with this 9.11 Tribute by Nathan Kress set to the haunting song so popular that year, Only Time by Enya.

This is the final post in a series commemorating the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks of 9.11.2001. The first post Somewhere in Pennsylvania was published August 24, 2011, and the second post The Angry American was published September 1, 2011.