He was just a kid then, but he can still vividly remember the day he walked into the Kenny's Market on Franklin Avenue and bought a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread with what looked like Monopoly money.

It was a poor neighborhood, so it wasn't uncommon for people to use food stamps. Still, he never forgot feeling ashamed and embarrassed as he walked out of the store. When he got home, he told his mother: Don't ever make me use those again.

Over the weekend, both Twin Cities dailies had stories on the rapidly rising number of people using food stamps, now called "food support," due to job loss and home foreclosures. While more people still apply for the assistance in the inner cities, the biggest growth is in the suburbs.

The number of food stamp recipients rose by nearly 90,000 people between 2007 and 2009 statewide, which includes an 85 percent jump in Carver County and a 70 percent increase in Scott County. That's a lot of people who probably never thought they would need the help, a lot of people whose stereotypes of the poor and needy are being challenged.

As Ini Augustine, who recently applied for food stamps, put it in the Star Tribune story: "Before, I thought people on food stamps just didn't feel like working," she said. "Now, it's exactly the opposite. There are people who want to work. But there are no jobs. The thing I realized is that if you are respectable, you will starve yourself before asking the government for help. But you won't starve your child."

If the comments on the stories on our websites are any indication, however, the surge in the numbers of people who need a temporary hand has not been accompanied by a similar growth in empathy. In fact, as our economy has slogged through the worst time since the Great Depression, the Small Government voices have only gotten louder and angrier. Maybe we just need somebody to blame.

I, for one, could relate to people like Augustine, who spoke of the unsettling feelings that come with charity, whether it be from the church or the government.

Maybe that's because I was the kid at the Kenny's Market.

For more than 25 years, my dad had a decent union job at Honeywell and we lived a modest and frugal existence, with five kids in a three-bedroom apartment. We always had enough to eat, and we all went to the Catholic school down the block.

When I was 8 years old, however, a brain aneurysm put my dad in the hospital, and out of work. My mom got a job, but it wasn't a living wage, so she reluctantly applied for food stamps and regularly picked up free blocks of cheddar cheese, bags of rice and jars of honey the government doled out to the poor.

On Saturday mornings I'd help her shop, but would sit in the car while she paid with the food stamps. The church helped us too, but we never got used to the people who brought gifts for "boy, 9" or "girl, 14." We all got by, with the help, and became productive, tax-paying citizens with honest jobs.

I think someone who experiences that kind of setback becomes one of two kinds of people. Either they claim to have pulled themselves up through hard work alone and insist that everyone must, or they recognize they also had help and good fortune and realize bad things can happen to everyone. I feel lucky to be the latter.

Michael Griffin, director of faith formation for Pax Christi Catholic Community in Eden Prairie, has witnessed traffic to food shelves multiply by at least five-fold. While his community has responded with increased charity, he still overhears stereotypes and sees donors distinguishing between "the deserving and undeserving poor." Part of it may be denial, he says, a way to avoid accepting it could happen to them.

As my parents found out, it can, no matter how hard you work.

Despite the fact that most of us now have family or friends who have lost jobs or homes, "it's still disturbing to see the disconnect between the need and policies to help them," Griffin said. But we shouldn't assume those who lack empathy and speak the loudest are the vast majority.

"There's still a lot of good will and conviction out there," said Griffin. "It's important that we make sure that wins the day."

jtevlin@startribune.com • 612-673-1702