I remember those two little faces, their bright eyes sparkling as they smiled and waved from the back seat of the car. I returned their smiles and gestures and handed the grocery bags to their mother. "Thank you," she said softly, gently setting the bags in the trunk of the old car.
The empty grocery cart rattled as I pulled it back inside past the smeared glass door and continued waving as the car groaned, then pulled away.
I returned to the shelves of government-issued peanut butter and powdered milk, along with the donated food from local congregations, to fill another order for a client at the food pantry.
The rest of this article is only available to subscribers.
© 2013 Augsburg Fortress, Publishers