I was a very poor child. I ended up staying for dinner at a classmate’s house when I was thirteen. Everybody at the table continued to look at me. I was shocked to see my friend’s mother at our house when I got home from school the following day. My mother’s face was red. “We need to talk,” she said, turning to face me.
I recall being completely unaware of what was happening. Ms. Allen, the mother of one of my friends, was standing by the window, looking both uncomfortable and concerned. Being a shy child, I thought I must have done something wrong right away. I made an effort to remember whether I had said something impolite or inadvertently broken a plate the previous evening.
I was asked to sit down by my mother. Subsequently, Ms. Allen began speaking quietly. “I observed your reaction during dinner last night,” she said. I didn’t understand why you wouldn’t look at anyone at first, but now I see that it’s because you’re not used to eating enough. In addition to being hungry, you also appeared ashamed.
