CEREAL in bowl, milk. Juice in glass. Newspaper at elbow.
Glug, glug. Gobble, gobble.
Breakfast: the simplest meal of the day.
Simple, cheap and staple.
But I was reminded again this week that it is not simple, cheap and staple to our brothers and sisters in Africa.
The Horn of Africa famine has put up to 13 million people at risk of starvation. The UN has declared it the worst drought the region has seen in 60 years, spreading through Kenya,
Ethiopia, Uganda, Somalia and Djibouti.
It is reported that 2 million children are malnourished, facing the very real possibility of death if something is not done soon.
Among the barrage of "news'' that hits websites, airwaves, print and TV, you've seen the images.
A mother and her child, for instance. I looked at that photo, at the despair in her eyes and the vacant misery in her son's. I looked and tried to imagine how it would feel, what
I would do if my son's ribs were jutting sharply against his skin, how I would cope knowing he might not survive the day.
Gulp.
Cereal flakes plug my throat.
Juice. Glug, glug.
We are so removed from that kind of intense hardship. How could we possibly comprehend such extreme need when the pantry is perpetually full? And if it isn't, there are government
services, allowances, charities to help.
For our friends in Africa, not only is the pantry empty, but the paddock and the state coffers too.
International aid is their last hope. That means you, me - we are their last hope.
Who else glazes over when yet another charity introduces itself at the end of the blower, asking for spare coin? Benefit concerts, telethons, door-knocking, appeal after appeal after
appeal. Do you get just a teency weency bit tired of them? (Don't worry, my hand's in the air.)
World Vision chief executive Tim Costello has been out there again, drumming up publicity for the worsening situation. He urged Australians to get over what he's calling ``compassion
fatigue''.
A chilling condition when you consider the implications. Tired of caring. The sorry-I-can't-give-right-now-I need-to-get-dinner-ready mentality.
"Australians feel that they are in recession so the idea that charity begins at home - with the subtext it also ends at home - has been out there in the community,'' Mr Costello
said.
But perspective is so important.
"We are blessed,'' he continued, "and if we give, we know we can save lives. With your generosity we are reaching these people and keeping them alive.''
My spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl. Full tummy. Empty bowl.
Compassion is not something that runs dry. There's no quota each year, each person.
There is need and there is compassion.
The more the need, the more our capacity for compassion.
I'm reminded of a verse in 1 John (3:17-18): "If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth.''
There is a deadly drought in Africa.
What better opportunity to check that our compassion is not also in a state of drought.
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