The Twinkie

Mom sent us to school with sensible lunches. She filled my thermos with uninspiring Campbells chicken noodle or tomato soup. Sometimes she stuck a hot dog in the thermos and stuffed a bun in a baggie, and my sister and I would have to match the two together at lunchtime.

But once in awhile, she sent us something exciting to go with the mundane fare. On this particular day, it was a Twinkie.

I was looking forward to my factory-made, store-bought, filled spongecake. And I was saving it for last. The boy sitting across from me saw it. Can't remember what he said, but it was something about how much he'd like it.

I didn't want to give it to him. It was mine. And I wanted it.

That's when I did the most illogicial thing. I offered him the Twinkie.

Even as I did it, I knew it was stupid of me. It wasn't because I was a little saint. Far from it. In the seconds that followed his heavy hinting, I had decided that maybe he would be kind to me if I gave him my treasure.

I remember that he played with me at recess that day, and then forgot about me the rest of the year.

That is how it goes all too often when we give away the best we have to someone who only wants to use us up and spit us out.

Young girls learn how to give away their treasures at very early ages. We seek affection, and we are willing to give away almost anything to get it.

Recently, I read that girls learn to give sex to get love and boys learn to give love to get sex. The person quoting this said it came from Theology of the Body for Teens.

And I think that's an accurate description of what is happening out there. Only the girls aren't really getting love. They are getting false love. And they are being used up in the process.

It only makes girls more addicted to affection and boys more addicted to sex.

Sure, we need to teach our daughters to give of their very best . . . to the needy and the homeless and the elderly and the Church.

But true giving doesn't desire anything in return. No I'll-give-you-a-Twinkie if you'll-give-me-your-attention.

True giving is free. Detached. Without manipulation.

I'm still learning how to abandon the need to control kindness and manipulate circumstances. I'm still trying to discern my motives and figure out when I really want something out of the act of giving.

And with grace, I'm seeing that there are times when I have to step back, close my eyes, and let the selfishness drip out of me. Then, I shake myself free and take another look.

I still give the Twinkie away sometimes, but now, I give it away if I don't really expect something in return. And if the other person picks the Twinkie up and enjoys it, that's wonderful. If the person leaves the Twinkie there and makes a face, that's okay too.

Sometimes, though, I look at the Twinkie, and I look at the one who wants it, and I realize that he isn't the right person for my Twinkie.

I realize that it would be much better if I gave it to the kid nobody likes, who's sitting off by herself. The one who is so socially unskilled that she wouldn't know how to thank me if she tried. The one who might muster up a smile, but who's likely to remember my gift for about sixty years.

The Twinkie