the bottom of the barrel

so i am still a little hit or miss working with stainless steel cookware - i was raised on cast iron and non-stick oddly enough - and last night i was scrubbing all the seasoning and yumminess that should have been on the chicken i cooked off the bottom of a skillet when i had a flashback to my first day in the feeding program at jubilee. i was with a team of wonderful southern women and we had made our way into the village with 5 gallon buckets of rice and bean sauce, and huge kivet filled with an assortment of plates bowls and spoons. there is a unique math to feeding programs, divide however much food you have as many ways as you want and it will always equal less than the number of mouths at the door. as such, we feed the youngest, the sickest, the ones with the orangest hair first. with the exception of a few, most of the kids do a pretty good job of putting themselves in this order, big brothers feeding younger siblings first or giving their food away to a sicker child all together. anyway, on this day, i was crowd control while the other women served the plates. even after careful counting we still came up several plates short. i had already told these children to come in, that we had food for them! so in desperation i went to the buckets wondering how we could have estimated so poorly. what i found there was oh. so. profound.
the scorched rice.
it had never occurred to these wonderful southern women, even in a dirty shed of a room filled with naked children sitting on the ground eating off dirty plates with their hands, to serve overcooked rice...and i don't mean this to disparage these ladies at all, of course to them what an insult that would be to anyone at their table!
but it gets better...not only are we talking about children who will get one meal a day (hopefully) but in haiti, like in many cultures where they eat a lot of rice, the scorched rice at the bottom of the pot is like licking the bowl, like the middle brownie, the best cut of the meat, the swirl off the ice cream cone...whatever you are into...its the best part. of course the ladies had no way of knowing this, but its the rice haitian kids would fight over in their own homes.

lately i feel like i have been scraping the bottom of the bucket in a lot of areas of my life. this moment at the sink reminded me of the lesson i learned watching kids devour burnt rice. it may feel like i've barely got anything left, and like what i have managed to scrape up is too ruined or embarrassing to offer. but beyond it being better than nothing...it might be just what someone is hoping for.