Life at the Poverty Line

Let’s face it – the middle word in the title of this blog is Broke. Unfortunately, this is not a metaphorical broke. The fact of the matter is that my husband and I are running short on funds and we are trying our best to survive.

Not many people would know looking at us – we are people in the community that show up to things. We shower and bathe, and have a home. It’s common knowledge that we are both are unemployed. But what’s not commonly known is the fact that sometimes I look at the refrigerator and wonder if I can afford to get groceries or even eye makeup remover pads. It’s a fear that seems to permeate every waking moment of my life recently. Can we afford this, that or the other? What will it take? Where is the money going to come from? And, above all, when will we get jobs so the uncertainty can end?

Many people I have known in my lifetime, coming from an upper-middle-class life, will probably never know this fear. Someone will come and help them, right? But the truth is that Ari and I have been trying our best to go at it without. We have been fending for ourselves first before trying to ask. Our savings have taken a major hit, but we’re coming to a point where there could be an end, and that is a very scary prospect. Life at the poverty line is a scary thought.

I dream of a time in my life where I will be able to cook and host Shabbat dinners in a house with a large enough dining room table to fit people. I long to have so much in my life, but sometimes it feels like it’s so far away. I dream of a better life than this, where we will have all we desire. I feel like something should come to us easily, but nothing ever has.

Fortunately, I have perspective on my life. Her name is Aunt Esther. She is my grandmother’s only living sibling, and at 95 she has been through the ringer in life. Yet she’s smart, funny and vivacious. And she spent quite a bit of her life in poverty.

Today, I went to go visit her with baklava that my mother got at the restaurant we had lunch at (Itz Kosher at Ventura and Tujunga in the San Fernando Valley – a delicious place which, for some odd reason, had William Shatner in it). I brought it to her, and we had a wonderful afternoon that was simple – it was two pieces of baklava and a knife. Simple and sweet. And she gave me a wonderful piece of advice.

“You can have bread and butter, and if it’s done with love, it’s like nothing you’ve ever tasted. If it’s not, meh.”

And that is really the simple truth. It doesn’t matter really what you have. You can have very little and it can be turned into something great. You can be dressed in rags and one day have the riches, but sometimes you need to remember that it’s the love that drives us forward. It's how two pieces of baklava can turn into a meal of miracles. It's what makes it all work.

It’s true that Ari and I don’t have a lot of money, and I pray to G-d that it changes soon so we can move on and start building our lives – something we have never been able to do since we got married, as we have been struggling with survival since day one. But I need to remember that everything we do, no matter what our income level is, has to be done with the love in our hearts to inspire and to change the world around us.

I’m currently working on several recipes, including black bean burgers, so stay tuned!