Watermelon Rind

This morning, as I groggily cut up some watermelon to put in my son's lunchbox, I had this conversation with my husband:

Him: "Honey, remove the rind so that it doesn't take up so much room in the lunchbox."

Thinking that he had a good point, I proceeded to cut it up. Then hubby noticed what I cut up contained the white part of the rind.

Him: Don't give Z the rind, it's not healthy for him. It will make him sick.

Me: "No it won't, I know this because when I was living in a refugee camp we would scoop up what was left in the rind and made a spicy salad out of it. "

Husband: "Honey, you don't live in a refugee camp. You can throw all of the rind away, we have plenty of watermelon."

Husband: "Honey, same with the dishes, you don't have to worry about breaking the dishes whenever we use them. If we break a dish, we can always get more or just get new ones. "

The conversation woke up my heart with a start and I internally gasped, how often does my past crept up in my present life and shape how I am being? I need to be conscious of how often my past collides with my present.

I also became aware that as I told my childhood story to my husband, I did so without judgment or pain. This children experience could have effected me differently. I am so grateful that when I had little to no food to eat, the hunger did not leave a scar of scarcity in my childhood heart.