Steak Through My Heart

1976.2.1

Today was an amazing day. Tonight we are in Hot Springs, Arkansas, after fundraising in Russellville all day.

Richard shared many things about fundraising that I have experienced in the past two days. For instance, having a repentful attitude for not loving the people enough, especially these Christian people in the Bible Belt. He says we need to love them as God does. God has saved America because of their purity, even though the rest of the country is going to the dogs.

Today I met a family that reflected such purity, and I felt my own fallen, tarnished nature so clearly as I was talking to them. I was ashamed that God has to reach these people through me, yet these are the people who must come to True Parents. Richard says these are the people in America that God loves the most.

Our team gained a new brother, Robert, who used to handle product in Dallas. Then we went to Sirloin Stockade and I had the first steak since I came to the family. It was so delicious and fantastic to have real food after so many months of group meals consisting mainly of rice and vegetables. I savored every juicy bite. I didn't realize how much my body has been craving protein that doesn't come from Burger King or McDonald's.

Yesterday, in Conway, I had lunch at Holly Farm's Fried Chicken. I just needed to taste some real meat. I devoured it all: three pieces of chicken, cole slaw, mashed potatoes with gravy, biscuit and a large soft drink. It was pure heaven. It made me so happy that I ran around selling for the next two hours. For the first time, I didn't feel guilty about eating my fill because I knew it was for a higher purpose. I was using the energy to battle Satan on the front line, taking the blessing away from him, one dollar at a time.

Such a contrast from San Francisco. Back at Washington Street I was hungry all the time. We only had liquid breakfast and then such meager meals during the day, and never any meat or fresh fruit. It was too expensive. I used to get so hungry that I would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and sneak into the kitchen, which was a forbidden. We weren't supposed to take any food because the sisters who worked in the kitchen said it belonged to HF, not to us. A sister caught me one time and really scolded me.

But I couldn't help it, not that there was anything to eat anyway. The only thing I could ever find in the pantry was bulk peanut butter, which was dry and not very tasty. If the coast was clear, I would quickly put some on a piece of bread and sprinkle brown sugar on it and then go eat it in secret somewhere. It would make the gnawing in my stomach go away for a little while, but then I'd feel accused, like I had committed a sin. I'd feel so guilty I'd often end up fasting the next day, which even then seemed ironic. Now that I think about it, I fasted a lot back in San Francisco. I guess I thought that if I was going to be hungry all the time, I might as well make it an offering to HF.

One time I snuck into the kitchen late at night and found another brother doing the exact same thing. I found out there were others who did it too. Only people who had their own money could afford to go out and buy something at a grocery store or restaurant. The rest of us had to rely on group meals.

Just for the food alone, MFT has been a great blessing.

After the steak dinner we went out and sold for a few hours and then went to see "Treasure Island." It will be our last entertainment for a while. Tomorrow begins a 21-day competition for the entire national MFT as we prepare for Yankee Stadium.

This is going to be a year of great change.