An excess of riches
/The Boston Herald
BEVERLY BECKHAM
The OxFam banquet was a month ago, an event associated with Thanksgiving, not Christmas. And yet the image created there lingers, because what was glimpsed isn't seasonal. It's constant, the way things are every day.
That night hundreds of people came to the great hall at the Park Plaza Castle to either dine at a table dressed up for a celebration, to have a good meal, sip wine and be feted; or to sit on the floor and eat rice. It was the luck of the draw that divided the group. Everyone paid $25. But everyone wasn't treated equally.
The banquet was conceived to represent the world. Only 15 percent of the earth's population gets to eat enough every day, never mind at fancy tables. Everyone else is lucky to have a handful of rice.
I thought that because this event was staged and executed in a spirit of camaraderie, the impact would be slight. How wrong I was wrong. The division of the haves and the have-nots was dramatic.
Separating the groups were those tall, thin, wispy, amber reeds that grow in fields and by the side of the road. The barrier was more psychological than physical. You could see through the reeds, watch the people in the center of the room, at the tables, talking, laughing, eating salad and rolls and meat and vegetables, pouring wine, attending to one another.
What was intriguing was that these people hardly ever looked out at those surrounding them, and didn't watch the pictures of the needy being flashed on a screen. They were immersed in their own worlds, in
their own conversations and though around them was this contrasting reality, it was as if it didn't exist at all.
How lucky we all are in this country. We are the privileged people at the table. And yet most of the time we don't feel it because next to us is a woman with more; across from us is a man we envy; down the table from us are dozens who intimidate us with their money and prestige.
Our vision is narrow. We don't see the billions who would trade places with the most underprivileged of us.
At Christmas, far more than at Thanksgiving, we tend to forget how lucky we are. We don't have enough time. We don't have enough money. We don't have enough energy to fit Christmas into our busy lives.
What problems of privilege these are. Our plates are too full! We can't buy presents for all the people we know. We can't visit everyone. We can't send as many cards as we'd like. We can't go to every party, watch every Christmas special, read all the Christmas books, bake cookies, pies and a gingerbread house, too.
But look at all we have. You drive down the road and there are all these beautiful lights, that people put up, not for themselves, but to brighten the lives of strangers. There are the windows of Jordan's and Filene's; The Enchanted Village, the lights on the Common.
Most of the world has none of this; yet here we are surrounded by colors and celebration and song. The least we can do is notice, and appreciate the riches we have.
