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Journeys of a Visitor (Part 1)
The Bread of Life for the Hungry
June 15, 2006

Outside of McDonald’s sits Ronald on his red and yellow park bench, his right arm stretched out to engulf those that needed an embrace, or a photo opportunity. Four young boys clamor onto this “playground” their bare feet fitting between the narrow gaps of the plastic planks. A woman dressed in clothing that seemed to come straight from the nearest storefront pushes the boys away from the bench and smiles at her friend holding up a camera.

The children scurry behind a bench for a moment, where a bearded man carrying a long walking stick smokes a cigarette and keeps a close eye on them. As the nicely dressed woman walks away, they grab their plastic bowls that have been temporarily thrown on the ground, and go back to work.

McDonald’s and KFC serve as the bookends to a pedestrian street filled with nearly every clothing brand in China. A side ally contains a two-leveled shopping area with multi-tiered lamp posts filling the street with light. Some workers tramp across what was once a children’s blow-up playground, pushing the air out with their feet, as children look back with longing eyes. A tiny model of future buildings contains the result of the construction that is now in progress, and children reach in cautiously to grab at fake pine trees, only to pull their hands back at the look of a security guard.

The street is swept clean of the normal litter of Chinese streets and regularly placed trashcans invite walkers to take the extra two steps to use them. Workers sweep up the trash of those who have yet to learn how to use a trashcan, keeping the dark gray tiles free of litter.

When walking, you will see shoppers sporting the latest store-front fashion, walkers buying pineapple on a stick from the nearest vendor and men selling wedding photography sessions to those passing by. On this particular day you will also see a man lying on a skateboard, his head just inches from the ground. His tied pant legs drag along the ground, absent of his lower legs. Every few minutes, one hand pulls himself forward a couple inches, the other hand holding a wide metal cup. No one seems to notice him as they walk by, unless it is a quick inquisitive glance.

The city has a total of 1.6 million, although only approximately 500 thousand live in the heart of the city. A result of the recent increase in those living in the city has been a large number of children too young to even read, mothers with babies strapped to their back and those missing limbs all earning a living from their disadvantages.

Coming back a few hours later, the same children still stake out the corner, calling out “A-yi, A-yi,”(Aunt) as they hold up their collection plates with hands covered in dust, dirt lying in every crease. Ranging in age from seven to three, the boys seem familiar with this place and greedily grab after leftovers pushed into their hands by those walking out of nearby restaurants, after their relentless grabs at the food. White teeth emerge from their dark faces smeared with dirt, as they reach into the bag to see their next meal—food eaten by people they have just met.

They seem to recognize the “regulars” who frequently provide their left-over meals, yet don’t even have a name to give to the One that has really provided that food for them. What a place, one in which the Great Provider longs for his servants to be his hands to those around, and even more to reveal the greatest change of all—hearts that see the brokenness of every person that walks on the street, whether they wear shoes, or not.

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