A slice of bread | “Mercy lived” according to Fr. Piumatti
From the diaries of Fr. Piumatti, fd of Pinerolo and missionary in North Kivu for 50 years. Telling Africa and giving it back its word is a gesture of mercy toward it
Hedwig, Cesarina’s little sister, was at the door, I let her in and gave her a slice of bread with some jam on it. Hedwig is a heartbreaker, but for three weeks she has been looking even more tender and sweet; mother Jeannette has gone to the Bingi dispensary, where she is waiting to give birth; and the babies are here without mother.
With that little slice in my hand, I contemplate her: she is a sight! With her little finger she touches the jam and licks; two, three, four, I don’t know how many times. Then he gets brave, snatches a tiny crumb of bread, puts it in his mouth, chews, eats.
And he goes on, crumb after crumb.
Almost with veneration she looks at the slice of bread, so small that it fits in her little hand; then her little eyes move to me, she sees that I am watching her, though I try not to give it away.
More than half an hour goes by and the meal is not finished; she has one small piece still left in her hand and goes outside.
I have no trouble imagining where she goes and what goes through her little head: there is the world in that little brain: the world as God created it.
And I’m left inside, continuing an infinity of thoughts.And I stayed inside, continuing an endless number of thoughts.
You sitting in a chair at the university, with a flowery professor in front of you, writing a bunch of books, where he explains to everyone what man is, and so many other things…; I don’t know if you had the luck that I have, in front of Hedwig, my teacher!
Tender, fragile, little-great Hedwig.
Hedwig is about three years old and knows very well what hunger is; and that morning she had not yet touched food.
How strange!
It is precisely those who have, those who have in abundance, who pounce on food, bite; even without looking at how many are at the table.
Great little Hedwig, what a lesson you teach us.
Who taught you that food is a gift, that food is sacred, that food is not wasted, that food is also made for others: for everyone, even those who are outside?
Who taught you that voracity, the big bite, does not satiate rather it makes you nauseous; it does not give you the joy of taste, but causes you to vomit?
Who taught you that the leftovers you leave on your plate are stolen from those outside?
You great little Hedwig! Let me tell you, with a swollen heart: Thank you!
Image
- Father Giovanni Piumatti
Source
- G. Piumatti, Wild flowers…scent of Africa, pp. 30-31