Today I spent the day shopping for gifts for our host family, which consisted of a mom and two daughters. After shopping and wrapping the gifts, Steve and I brought them over to the house. We were greeted at the door with a darling little chihuahua. The family was sweet, gave hugs, and the youngest daughter presented a coloring page and a handcrafted ornament. The youngest daughter placed the wrapped presents under a small tree.
The mom said to us, "Someday when I get on my feet, I am going to do the same thing."
It's all about paying it forward, but why do I still feel numb? I think it's because I wish we could do more. Someone at one of the stores mentioned today that there was a line around the block at the Mishawaka food pantry waiting for lunch.
I asked Steve, "Why not have something like a poetry pantry in April? Team up sponsors and writers, and for every short poem submitted, a can of food can be donated to the banks." The idea is worth pursuing, and that gives me a spark of hope.