Hungry for Dignity

The bruise on his face swelled faster than the ice pack could reduce it. Greg felt the stare of the sergeant from across the room. He knew his explanation wasn’t going to help matters, but he was going to tell the truth regardless of how humiliating the experience. The sergeant opened the door and signaled for his entry.

The interrogation room was a new experience, outside of Greg’s consistent viewing of NCIS. He sat down and returned the ice pack to his left eye.

“According to the paperwork you filled out, you’re a leader at the large church down the street,” stated the sergeant.

“I probably shouldn’t have written that down,” winced Greg.

“Did you write it as a confession of your bad character, or did you think a religious background might help you get off?”

Greg slumped in his chair; there was no getting around his poor behavior. “I don’t know why I wrote it, but it sure makes me feel worse, now.”

“Go ahead, I’m listening.”

“Well, our church food pantry told me I wasn’t qualified for a box of food because I received food last week.”

“Just jump to the point in the story where you hit the man and grabbed his loaf of bread.”

“You make me sound so…” The sergeant locked his eyes on Greg and waited for the story. Greg sighed and closed his eyes. “The system made me feel indignant, so I acted that way.”

“Uh, huh. Are you one of those crazies who is into that emotionalism?”

“Look, my church has a program to feed those who are less fortunate, not that I’m one of those, but I’m temporarily unemployed.”

“Hmm, that’s unfortunate.”

“Well, I’m not a loser… Any way, my church also has a Christmas shoebox program where families can fill a shoebox with something special and wrap it up as a gift for those who are less fortunate.”

“Unlike you, who is just temporarily unemployed?”

“Look, what they do is put the names of those who are less fortunate on cards and place them in the Christmas tree in the lobby. Those who have excess can then grab a card from the tree, put together a shoebox gift filled with what the person might need, wrap it and deliver it the week before Christmas.”

“That doesn’t sound like a problem to me,” said the sergeant. “In fact, that sounds like a blessing.”

“No, you don’t understand. While my name is on the card that is stuffed in the branches for someone to take, everyone can walk by and find out who the losers in the church are. You would think the church would have the Sunday school classes make artistic ornaments with a number on it, so when someone pulls the ornament off of the tree they can call the church to find out what less fortunate person was assigned that number.”

“Aren’t numbers a little cold?”

“I’m just saying that my dignity should be saved. Why does a church, who wants to do a loving deed, do it in a way that humiliates the recipient or takes away their dignity?”

“It sounds like you want to keep your pride in tact.”

“See, that’s what I mean. People confuse humiliation with humility. Just because someone is in a bad financial position, doesn’t mean that God humbled them to deal with their pride. Maintaining a person’s dignity is not a bad thing.”

“Do you really think a person who is down on their luck needs to be esteemed by the giver?”

“That’s the way Christ did it.”

“I can’t even get honored by people while I’m at the top of my game.”

“I know, times are hard and people have lost track of common courtesies, but wouldn’t it be great for the hurting to be treated in a worthy manner?”

“You’re dreaming. But, tell me why you punched the man.”

“I hadn’t eaten in four days and I needed something in my belly to help my ulcer.” Greg dropped his head. “I know I made the wrong choice.”

The sergeant stared at the paperwork.

“Sir,” commented Greg. “I know I ended up acting like everyone was treating me, like a loser. But, I’m confident that if you treat me with a little respect, I will step up to what is expected of an honorable person as well.”

“Greg, the gentleman dropped the charges against you and asked me to give you this $50 gift card. I just wanted to understand why you, as a church going man, behaved the way you did.”

“I don’t understand, the man I fought for the bread can afford to give me a gift card?”

“He had donated the bread in the morning and learned that it was too old, so he quickly had his bakers make fresh bread to exchange. And, you tried to stop him.”

“The bakery?”

“Yep.”

“Well, don’t I feel like the fool I am.”

“At least the man treated you with dignity.” The sergeant got up, opened the door and turned back toward Greg. “I hope you find, in yourself, the same dignity that the baker saw. It’s worth far more than a job.”